He hears it, loud and clear, even if the name goes unsaid. Jon had spoken with Mortanne, during a ritual to bring about a dream, and knew that the center was a working of Eligos in general, but such a great length for a single betrayal is a surprise.
Jon presses his lips into a thin line, and the conflict is written all over his face, try as he might to furrow his brows and push it aside with thoughtfulness. He's quiet for a moment.
When he does speak, it's tentative, yet level. A contemplative push for that same evenness.
"I... did find that out, yes. I'd spoken with him," Jon remarks, shifting to lean his elbows against the table. "He didn't have anything of use to say about the incident, so I... picked at any thread I could find, I suppose. Just to come out of it with something to show for it beside a headache."
A beat. Perhaps, in his own bitterness, and his desperation for vindication in his own wrongdoings, he's putting that same justification on Daisy's. He doesn't dwell on it too deeply, at least not yet. Instead, he simply gives a slow, short nod, before letting out a quiet, derisive huff of a laugh.
"Couldn't have been a more lovely person to send to the Buried." He pauses, before he continues, more serious, doing what he can to snuff out that edge of uncertainty. "And... now, none of the royals could see fit to let him wreak havoc here, right? He's soundly out of reach."
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Jon presses his lips into a thin line, and the conflict is written all over his face, try as he might to furrow his brows and push it aside with thoughtfulness. He's quiet for a moment.
When he does speak, it's tentative, yet level. A contemplative push for that same evenness.
"I... did find that out, yes. I'd spoken with him," Jon remarks, shifting to lean his elbows against the table. "He didn't have anything of use to say about the incident, so I... picked at any thread I could find, I suppose. Just to come out of it with something to show for it beside a headache."
A beat. Perhaps, in his own bitterness, and his desperation for vindication in his own wrongdoings, he's putting that same justification on Daisy's. He doesn't dwell on it too deeply, at least not yet. Instead, he simply gives a slow, short nod, before letting out a quiet, derisive huff of a laugh.
"Couldn't have been a more lovely person to send to the Buried." He pauses, before he continues, more serious, doing what he can to snuff out that edge of uncertainty. "And... now, none of the royals could see fit to let him wreak havoc here, right? He's soundly out of reach."