Lucinda set the bottle down on one of the library tables, set between two arm chairs. Standing on her toes let her grab two small empty decorative glasses - generally not for drinking, but, well - off one of her bookshelves. She set them down, and poured herself what was more or less a shot. She pushed the bottle of firewhiskey towards the other empty seat and sat down.
"If you get caught," she said, "Really caught, not caught by me - it's going to be worse for her."
That was how the world worked. When real people caught you, they didn't get in a screaming match - they watched, and they took notes, and they went to the Prophet or even just to their friends. Reputations plummeted. People lost their jobs. Lives were ruined. That was what was really at risk, here - even if pointing it out made Lucinda the bad guy.
"If you get caught," she said, "Really caught, not caught by me - it's going to be worse for her."
That was how the world worked. When real people caught you, they didn't get in a screaming match - they watched, and they took notes, and they went to the Prophet or even just to their friends. Reputations plummeted. People lost their jobs. Lives were ruined. That was what was really at risk, here - even if pointing it out made Lucinda the bad guy.