Richard ran his hand through his silky hair, “Are there any other rules toward Exiles we want to create?”
The man with ponytail raised his hand.
Richard’s eyes settled on him, “Yes, Tom?”
He lowered his hand, “For non-criminal Exiles, the cheek brand should be done away with.”
My own scar was a brutal reminder of what I was. A number of eyes from around the table glanced over at me and quickly looked away. My hand reached up and felt the puckered ridges of the burn scar in my cheek. Criminal.
“We need to get rid of the Exile outfit as well,” The old woman demanded. “Leather is a precious resource for our city and shouldn’t be wasted on people leaving the city. Especially not with numbers choosing to leave.”
Richard nodded. “Does anyone disagree with Tom or Sarah?”
Sarah must be the stern old woman since Tom was the young man with his blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. For preserving the resources of the city, their ideas were fine. There were probably too many people planning on leaving for the city to provide exile leather to everyone, and it wouldn't be fair to only provide it to those they were now differentiating as criminals. At the same time, the Dishonored didn’t really have proper clothing to leave the city in. “Those who are Dishonored or anyone without proper clothing to leave the city should be given something proper to wear even if it is not exile leather. The world outside the city is a much rougher environment than inside the controlled environment of the city.”
Michael shook his head, “Who cares about the Dishonored? They would have died anyway. Let them walk out in their sacks if they want to leave.”
This man was the worst of this lot! If I was closer I might have smacked him, except that wouldn’t get me anywhere. I clenched my teeth, trying hard not to say anything, but no one was responding. They were all just looking at me. Ugh! I had to be the voice of reason for everything with these dishonorable people sitting around me. “Dishonor is just a caste. It means nothing. Plenty of people who you call Dishonored are more honorable than you! For all the abuse and suffering you people have inflicted on them you should at least give them more than a simple sack before they leave! Even if you don’t, the Wall will, and that will come from you anyway. Think with your damn brain sometimes instead of letting it rot in your skull.”
I was one to talk. My own opinions of humanity were wrong as proven by Casia, but even then it was just proven that all people were equally able to be terrible. No one was special, and especially being born Honored didn’t make a person more honorable.
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The man glared at me and clenched his fists, “Listen here you Dishonored traitorous scum, you have no right to lecture us on anything. You killed the King and multitudes of innocent Honored. You are a murderer of the worst kind, and you sit here preaching like you are some angel bringing salvation?”
I laughed, my own anger leaving me. Right. I didn’t care what happened to this city. They could burn themselves to the ground in their own infighting. “You’re right! I am the worst type of person who gets everyone around me killed. Fine, make your laws to kill more people than I have. Make your legacy bloodier than mine!”
His horror flooded me with satisfaction. Let them think about the impacts of their actions. A couple people around the table shifted uncomfortably.
Richard stared at me with a blank unreadable expression, and then sighed. “Vote for removing marking the cheeks of Exiles and removing the exile leather outfit but adding in an option for getting a single simple outfit to wear out of the city?”
“Criminal exiles should still get their face branded.” The old lady, Sarah, calmly demanded. “We can’t have Exiles sneaking back into our beautiful city and pretending to be Honored.” Her eyes glanced at me, stern and unreadable. It felt like a quiet rebuke for my presence at her table.
“Separate votes then. Those in favor of marking only criminals, and this is people who have broken a law of the city, not just any Dishonored, with an E before they leave; please raise your hands,” Richard pulled the focus back to moving the assembly forward.
Most of the table raised their hands except for two people, Tom and an old man sitting near Richard Revacks who hadn’t spoken up yet. What was their reason for disagreeing? Did they think that everyone should get the E, or that no one should?
“The only dissent is Zachariah and Tom.” Richard stated, and the note taker on the edge of the crowd scribbled down something on his tablet. Without missing a beat or asking why there was dissent he moved on to the next item, “The second vote is for removing giving exiles the leather outfit and instead allowing them either clothes they own already or a simple cloth outfit. All in favor, raise your hands.”
A couple people glanced at me, and then raised their hands. Michael glared at me and put his hand on the table. His vote didn’t matter though as everyone else was raising their hand.
Richard’s face twitched in what could almost be considered the edge of a smile, “Exiles will not get the leather exile uniform anymore, but will have the option of getting simple clothing from the city.”
“Anything else for laws around exiles?” Richard asked the silent table. No one spoke up.
“Then let us move on to general city laws.” The man seemed to have every part of this thing planned.
My eyes drifted over the crowd as the discussion moved to mundane things like theft and murder being wrong. The crowd seemed less interested in the current discussion as well. Some people sat down; others drifted away to stare at the ruins of the castle that hadn’t been touched. The King’s body and all the others who died in that castle were probably still buried under that rubble. There were probably really useful materials for the city in that rubble as well, but it seemed no one was ready to disturb that graveyard yet.