180 Ch. 179: The Illuminati

I consider telling Emma to run him through with my dagger, but she isn't here, unfortunately. Instead, I fall back on an old classic quote from Catholic school while we sit in the quiet luxury of his considerably stripped-down apartments compared to my own.

The bare furnishings include a soft lambskin rug beneath our feet, a vintage set of armor propped up near the wall, and a landscape painting from an artist who was especially popular a few years ago.

"Ask and thou shalt receive," I recite aloud. "I don't suppose you ever thought about asking nicely, hmmm?"

My older brother's smile broadens as he sits up in the low lounge chair he sits in across from me. The chairs must be imported from the Old Continent, with a brass finish on the bow-like legs that is unlike anything I've seen in Radovalsk.

"Matthew. Chapter 7, verse 7, correct?" he crows with pride.

"So you were a god-fearing man. I couldn't tell." I purse my lips at the irony.