Fire burn, and cauldron bubble

Her lyrics were pleasant on his ears, uncaring of whether the rest of the world hated them. they belonged and always would. The intermixing of scents is intentional, he's marking her as owned to deter scum. one would have to be daring to try to touch her when his scent marked her. She stated that the spirits weren't dead but they didn't speak here yet, this land was silent then. It was unsuitable for them then. Hannibal best not have chosen this place where the prophet could not guide them, lest Jekyll have to challenge for the place as heir. That was a fight that would not end well for either.

Her nose pressed into his ear and he knows she reads his mind from every thought that found his face. It was displeased and a hardness in his eyes. She knows him well and knows he will not hesitate to challenge should he feel he need to. She whispers her lyrics, speaking of finding places to meditate. "Then find you a place we shall. I shall see to it that they do not remain silent to your ears."

He doesn't speak the blasphemy on his mind but he knows that she knows. She will always know. Even Hannibal knows, just none voice it except in private. They know if Hannibal won Jekyll would likely be banished, but if Jekyll won Hannibal would be forced to conform to Jekyll's will or else be left and forgotten. Both would become gravely wounded, but both know one day this will come to a head. The battle between them is likely inevitable. Desire for power ploys at both. Only one solution is there where they both gain it, but to split the empire in such ways is to take from each other's own strength. So for now Jekyll is forced to bend to the other's will.

He turns his eyes to Cordelia, reading her face. Would she choose the chosen heir or the brother that believed her powerful enough to bring down a kingdom with mere spells and visions? The question plagues him as always. Their father planted the seed long ago, and Jekyll is merely drawn to the power it promises to take the empire, and to seed his prophet's womb. Their spawn would be even greater than any Hannibal could ever create with his whores.

Speech