Afternoon Reflection (For Azami)

Datara stepped inside the church, afternoon sunlight pouring into it through the stained glass windows within. She had always admired such works of art,how they shone beautifully in the sunlight, casting all sorts of colors and things on the ground.
One of humanity's many small, but beautiful achievements.
"A shame it's dedicated to the ruler of a peaceful tyranny." she thought to herself. She sighed lightly. She had come here on a whim, and it was not one she liked. For all it's beauty, it did very little to comfort her disgust with the regime.
Sure, the queen was beautiful, almost (and in her experience, more than likely) supernaturally so, and she had done a remarkable job of restoring order quickly in just five years, but the tyranny that had resulted in terms of restricted beliefs sickened her. She believed that people had the right to believe what they believe, and that forcing others with a (metaphorical) gun to the head to do the same was wrong.

Although the Machiavellian philosophy COULD justify it, now was not the time to do such debates, and she knew better than to voice anything of what she thought truly. A brief flash of a violent mob in Salem centuries ago sent a shudder down her spine, painful memories reminding her that some things were best kept secret.
Especially when it came to heresy and the supernatural.
And ESPECIALLY since Iggy didn't seem like he was joking when he told her what he would do if she tried to do any of her previous past stunts that involved guests of the room.
Sighing at the memory, she sat down on a nearby pew, quietly watching those that worshipped Isla go up.
She wondered just what went through these people's heads when they went up to pray to Isla.

Of course, to anyone else, she looked suspicious as hell. Watching people with that unblinking gaze and a unmoving face go up to pray, not once even going up to pray herself.
Datara, for her part, honestly couldn't care less unless it involved trouble.
To her, this was just a simple reflection on why people believed in Isla, nothing more,nothing less.
Silent rebellion would have to do for her, as it did for most.