Why can't an old man enjoy his last years in a warmer climate, with good wines, and spicy foods, without stumbling into another nest of aristocratic vipers, eager to coil around the heart of the Empire.
As I've learned more, each week for months now, I've found my mind turning, turning over the moments beneath the surface here in Karnaca. Duke Luca Abele and some inner circle that even seems to include Captain Mortimer Ramsey of the Dunwall City Watch, a betrayal that boggles the mind. How many others are involved? They aim their venom at our dear Empress, young Emily, that much is certain, but when will they strike, and how?
Do I dare spend another month gathering stray bits of esoteric information, linking it together with what we already know? Can we even afford another week? Or should Meagan and I set out for Gristol tonight, taking this leaky tub up through the Canal?
Corvo will not hesitate. He will act as soon as I hand over what I know, and if I'm too hasty, it might be his undoing, coming home to his native Serkonos without some critical piece of knowledge about this affair.
And then there's the Crown Killer to worry about. If that fiend is part of Duke Abele's schemes, as I suspect, how long until the Dreadful Wale catches the Duke's eye?