[ Some other time, she might have to ask about this devil, but not when this girl is looking up at her with so much craving in her eyes, like someone who has not heard many good things in a very long time. She feels starkly reminded of the temple, perhaps not her own initiation into it, but that of many others – how many had wanted to believe that the hand of the Lord was real, had reached out to them, and was now truly offering them something good in the hell that is their world? ]

I have heard preachers and septas and maesters and the like say similar things. [ Her tone is dismissive, but turns warmer on the next part: ] Magic is a blessing, the Lord leads us to it, and it is his power we feel, to be used to enact his will where others can't.

[ A pulsing of the ruby around her neck. ] It doesn't mean that it has never lead anyone astray, the scripture is rich in such stories. Nothing to do there but to get up, dust off, and try again.

[ She tilts her head, curiosity does overcome her, a little. ] What do you think of your own magic?