It was, as ceilings went, a fairly nice ceiling, and hadn't even been marked by blood spray. Yet.

Raine sat back on her heels, her staff across her lap, and let her gaze drift across the room, not watching Valdis directly. "You'll forgive me, perhaps, if I'm a little wary of you right now," she said, quiet, remote. "But Anton evidently has faith in you, and him I trust. I'd like to say that's enough for me, but I need to understand what happened." And why, from what rationale, was murdering an entire city in any way a reasonable response. "I'm assuming the impetus was Dante, in some manner. How did things go awry, and what can prevent it from happening again, if anything?"