Later that evening, when the trio retired to their respective rooms—Irmilla to one and the men to another—Romeo kept sneaking glances at Arca as they prepared to sleep. Even when they sat down on their beds, dressed down only to nightclothes.
When eventually Romeo set aside the comb with which he brushed his hair and opened his mouth to speak, Arca was not surprised in the least.
Even after he heard the question.
"Father Santangelo, are we still following our mission? Or did we… stray from the path?"
No, Arca was only confused. This wasn't the question he expected. Or understood.
"What are you even talking about, Romeo? We have discussed our plans enough by now—surely you understood them."
"Well, it's just… You thought Spezzian would attack us, and this is how we would find him. But if the assassins really lost us, then… should we even continue? We didn't have orders from the Archbishop to do anything else but search for these criminals."