A rumor

You spread some coin around and eventually you get a tidbit from a group of gossiping merchants: Rumor 56:
‘That was real cold, setting up her husband like that so that she could take control of the Brotherhood. Word is, the Laudable Poet, or whatever her fancy title is, accepted her into the Troubadours. That a coincidence, ain’t it? Just about the time the Poet has that… problem… she’s dipping her fingers into the Brotherhood’s pie. Thing is, I hear Wolfe’s still got supporters. Those better be careful next time they step outside that pretty theatre.’.

And, now, I’m pretty sure I’m going crazy. I’m pretty sure I would have drank myself to death tonight if I hadn’t been stopped.

I cried for the first time since the night Jacob was dragged away. I never cry.