Round 6

Silra's hand moves to her dagger hilt, the blade already half-drawn as she steps between Clarice and the rest of us. "You need to leave now," she says, her voice cold and final. "This is a private gathering. You weren't invited." Clarice flinches back, her eyes wide with fear as she takes in Silra's menacing stance. "I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude," she stammers, clutching the wine bottle tighter. "I just heard noises and—" Her gaze darts past Silra to take in the rest of us—myself included—standing there in various states of undress and arousal. "What's going on here?" she asks, her voice shaking. The air in the church feels suddenly heavy, charged with tension as we all realize how close we've come to disaster.

Jeane steps forward, her expression unreadable as she regards Clarice with those unsettling crimson eyes. "Silra is right," she says, her voice smooth and hypnotic. "This is a private matter. You should leave now, before things become... complicated." There's something in the way she says it—a threat barely veiled by politeness—that makes Clarice take another step back. "I—yes, of course," she manages, her eyes darting between Jeane and Silra. "I'm sorry for disturbing you. I'll just—" She turns to leave, but pauses at the door, looking back over her shoulder with a mixture of fear and curiosity. "What are you doing here, really?" The question hangs in the air, unanswered.

As Clarice finally disappears through the door, the heavy silence of the church returns. But it's different now—charged with the aftermath of near-discovery and the unresolved tension between us.