"Most regrettable," Mr Blanket said. "School friend of yours I believe?"
"I – I'll make the blackleaf," Carmen's mere said. She glanced at her daughter, her face white, and left the room.
Mr Blanket had taken to gazing at the ceiling, cupping his chin with one hand, a philosophical look on his face. "Appalling business," he said to the ceiling, forming a steeple beneath his chin now with his soft pink fingers. "The MSI had been monitoring them for months. When they raided the house they found several forbidden objects, including books, and some incriminating notes."
"A death sentence seems extreme," said Carmen's pere.
"There's more," Mr Blanket said. He leaned across the table and his voice dropped to a whisper. "It seems they were attempting to wake the Sleepers."
Carmen, who had been slipping off into torpor, was suddenly alert.
"But the story is a myth," Carmen's pere said. "Pure nonsense."
"Extremely heretical nonsense," Mr Blanket said.
"Who're the Sleepers?" Carmen said. Even Clarence and Daphne were leaning forward now.
"That is not a story for young people," Mrs Blanket said, emerging from an unusual spell of silence.
"Yet an execution is a sight for young eyes?" Carmen's pere said.
"It's part of their education," she snapped at her brother. "Fairy tales are not."
"I'm happy to answer my daughter's question," Carmen's pere said softly.
"I want to know too!" Daphne burst out, but she immediately reddened and cast her eyes down as an icy glare from Mrs Blanket shot across the table.
"They've heard this much," Mr Blanket said. "They can hear the rest. If nothing else it will demonstrate how absurd the story is."
Janice Blanket became very still and silent at this. Those who knew her would have recognised these as symptoms of a seething white-hot rage. Mr Blanket surely knew them. On the other hand, he had been known to intentionally provoke them from time to time.
I do hope you're enjoying this extremely heretical nonsense.