Infante

Two men stood on either side of the Infante.  They looked like soldiers, but they weren’t officers.  Both stood in ways that made them lopsided, as if they couldn’t hold themselves entirely upright.  Both were coughing, or doing something like coughing, with whole-body jerks.  As unsteady as they were, their upper bodies almost flopped around with each of the jerky little motions.

Lillian looked so very scared.  She had a pistol in hand, not pointing it at anything.

The Infante spoke, his lips moving.  “Obedience in action alone is worth nothing to us.”

Mary responded.  “Obedience has to be earned.”

The Infante smiled, arms wide.  “Obedience is taken, clearly.”

Lillian shook her head.  Then, as she mouthed the word ‘no’, she put the barrel of the gun to her temple.

> > [...]

The Infante almost ignored them.  He held up one hand, and one tendril like that of the horror he’d just unleashed on Lillian was slurping its way back into a slit in his heavy palm.  As it disappeared within, the slit closed, indistinguishable from a line in the noble’s hand.

https://twigserial.wordpress.com/2017/05/16/lamb-iii-arc-18/