“I am the daughter of the abbot of this place.”
He laughs:
“Have priests children? Or are there special priests in your land?”
“Yes, the priests are different here.”
“Now, I recall, Khorre told me something about the priest of this place.”
“Who is Khorre?”
“My sailor. The one who buys gin in your settlement.”
He suddenly laughs again and continues:
“Yes, he told me something. Was it your father who cursed the Pope and declared his own church independent?”
“Yes.”