@lycorisinfonia liked a starter call!
(main verse)
"Still lurking around the last breaths of a successful carnevale, are we?"
There could be no mistaking the woman who stands before him—not when Brant's hopes and the future of Ragunna had hinged entirely on her defeat. In many ways, she's nothing more than another addition to the long list of enemies Brant has laid out for himself in his arduous quest of personal liberation, only he doesn't know her name to properly put her on that list.
If anything, the Fractsidus and the conductor who had served as the weapon for the Order's plans are lower among Brant's priorities than the order itself. They, after all, likely don't care one way or another about the social politics they're interfering with. The Fractsidus Brant had run into were all far too big-picture to even spare a second thought to the people their plan might have impacted, believing themselves to be the orchestrators of some greater purpose.
It's laughable, but it means he's far less angry at them than the real aggressors.
Still, his guard remains raised, voice tinged with anger, suspicion, and wariness all in equal measure. For all his showboating, Brant knows when not to underestimate an enemy. And it wouldn't do to cause a commotion, not when his free passage into and out of Ragunna is still such a fresh thing, brittle and easy to shatter.
"I'm surprised," he admits, brow raised and smile thin. "But not that surprised. Those Fractsidus running rampant around the isles—should I refer to them as your subordinates, or do you claim to hold no authority over them? Either way, they didn't seem the type to let sleeping dogs lie either."
