When she stepped out of her expensive looking carriage, the first thing she noticed was the change in the weather. For when she set off, the sun was shinning ever so brightly. Lighting up the upper ring. But now, standing before the church. It almost seemed as if a darkness had befallen the region. Completely getting rid of the warmth the sun had offered mere hours previously. But she wasn't surprised, autumn was the season in which those two forces of nature seemed to battling for dominance with each other. A struggle for control. Only to be lost for a time, and regained again just a few months later. It was a vicious cycle really. Cassiopeia moved to receive the gorgeously made bouquet from a servant. It apparently contained some of the rarest flowers in Ashmoor. Though really she placed no value on that. She had a large disdian for blossoms and alike. They were entirely worthless to her. Though she couldn't really say where the dislike came from, she did remember a time when she was a child when she rather liked flowers. But perhaps she grew tired of them, since she received so many during her lifetime. But even if she didn't like the gift, there were plenty of people who did. It was actually a very choice for a present. Though, it wouldn't even really matter. The person for whom these flowers were for had no real way of feeling very strongly about it one way or the other. The duchess turned to her staff and gestured to them rather offhandedly. "You are to stay here until I return." She ordered, with her signature cold and emotionless voice. The servants merely nodded, and Cassiopeia thus entered the church alone. The holly temple of Renestrae. Despite being one of its main patrons, she didn't visit the place as often as she should. Not because of a lack of faith. No, she was a true believer if there ever was one. But she simply lacked the time. Her entire life felt like a race against the clock. While she was making her way to the graveyard of the temple. The blond woman clutched the bundle of flowers tighter when she noticed an all too familiar figure. "I do wonder sometimes, father. On how trustworthy you are." She began. A little lighter in tone than when she was speaking to her retainers. "Confessions are supposed to be strictly confidential, are they not? Yet is that indeed always the case?" She walked forward a bit. The sound of her heels coming down on the stone-cold floor echoed through the large building. "What if I were to confess to something that did not only impact my life, but the whole of Ashmoor? Would you keep it a secret, or does it depend on how grave the sin is?"

@Alpha Aphelion