Despite his rather frosty exterior as a whole he is trying to be cordial and kind in his own way, a small smile appearing on his face when she sips the tea.
"Your story doesn't make sense, not what's written down in this file anyway." He leans back, taking his own cup of tea against his lips before putting it down and crossing his arms over his chest, the buttons on his vest almost starting to strain.
"I'll cut to the chase, I don't think you belong here. I think you're innocent." He tries not to look her over though it is very tempting to take in every detail of her curves and person. "Obviously a forgery was committed but I don't think it was you. What I can't seem to figure out is why you are taking the fall for someone else. Is it a lover?"
Dorothea acts perfectly nonchalant as Wriothesley points out the inconsistency of the story that landed her here in prison, but she nearly inhales her tea when he speculates as to the reason for her allowing herself to be incarcerated. She has to take a second to compose herself, clearing her throat as she sets her cup down.
"Not that it's any of your business, but I don't have any lovers at present." Even though it would make sense to assume she would be willing to do time in a lover's stead, Dorothea denies it firmly. It's true, too--she isn't romantically involved with anyone.
The truth is... sadder, actually, than being willing to take a punishment that should have gone to someone else. The truth is that the people who could have had a hand in forging those documents are indispensable, and she is not. It would have to have been someone in the Knights of Favonius--not Jean, she would never intentionally break the law--and given the fact that the majority of their numbers have been deployed for years on that expedition, the ones left remaining in positions of power are the ones whose work is necessary to keep Mondstadt running.
So. The math is simple. One of her friends forged the Fontainian birth certificate without her knowledge and got her to sign the citizenship paperwork, never expecting that the falsified documents to be uncovered. It was always possible, even if she didn't know it, and now that it's happened she has no way out without indicting one of her friends.
Ultimately, she made the call to face the consequences, knowing she's unimportant compared to the actual culprit. Mondstadt doesn't need her the way it needs them. No one does.
"Does the truth really matter in this case?" she asks. "I've already been convicted and sentenced. I don't think the court would appreciate you letting me go, even if you do think I'm innocent."
no subject
"Your story doesn't make sense, not what's written down in this file anyway." He leans back, taking his own cup of tea against his lips before putting it down and crossing his arms over his chest, the buttons on his vest almost starting to strain.
"I'll cut to the chase, I don't think you belong here. I think you're innocent." He tries not to look her over though it is very tempting to take in every detail of her curves and person. "Obviously a forgery was committed but I don't think it was you. What I can't seem to figure out is why you are taking the fall for someone else. Is it a lover?"
no subject
"Not that it's any of your business, but I don't have any lovers at present." Even though it would make sense to assume she would be willing to do time in a lover's stead, Dorothea denies it firmly. It's true, too--she isn't romantically involved with anyone.
The truth is... sadder, actually, than being willing to take a punishment that should have gone to someone else. The truth is that the people who could have had a hand in forging those documents are indispensable, and she is not. It would have to have been someone in the Knights of Favonius--not Jean, she would never intentionally break the law--and given the fact that the majority of their numbers have been deployed for years on that expedition, the ones left remaining in positions of power are the ones whose work is necessary to keep Mondstadt running.
So. The math is simple. One of her friends forged the Fontainian birth certificate without her knowledge and got her to sign the citizenship paperwork, never expecting that the falsified documents to be uncovered. It was always possible, even if she didn't know it, and now that it's happened she has no way out without indicting one of her friends.
Ultimately, she made the call to face the consequences, knowing she's unimportant compared to the actual culprit. Mondstadt doesn't need her the way it needs them. No one does.
"Does the truth really matter in this case?" she asks. "I've already been convicted and sentenced. I don't think the court would appreciate you letting me go, even if you do think I'm innocent."