The Duke looks calm now, but in the cold, analytical way one does when they’re trying to pick out the truth in something.
“That’s a lot to take in. I feel like there is more to this story.”
He looks at Alice.
She looks back indifferently.
“Well? What happened, Alice. What did Kerr do?” The duke grips the arms of his chair. He’s not expecting to like the news.
Alice grimaces, and begins to tell her tale. She leaves out the self flagellation this time, and in fact seems to revel in detailed description of Kerr’s evil deeds. When she speaks of the feeling of her soul leaving her body, the duke gasps out loud.
The duke is utterly distraught.
“No, no, no… Alice… My daughter…” His head is in his hands. “Why… Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?”
“Tell you?!” Alice begins, spite filling her voice like poison. “Who are you to me?! Have we spoken more than ten words once in the last two years?”
“I have duties.” The Duke replies, with that severe noble expression coming back, though his eyes remain distraught.
“Yes, your duties. Well while you were doing your duty, your daughter was becoming a monster. I’m not sick and feeble any more, forgotten and ignored and carried around by maids. I’ll outlive all of you. I’ll see your children, and your children’s children die, duke.” Alice is riled again, standing up and fuming in front of the fire. She looks vicious, pure hate is in her eyes.
The Duke sighs sadly and stands. There is determination on his face, like a man that has had to make many decisions in his life that wrote the fates of others. “No, Alice. Now that I know what you are, you will not outlive me. Where is it?”
Alice is shocked. “Where is what?”
The duke draws his sword again.
“Your phylactery. The soul-container.”