It was true that Moira really didn't want an answer to her question. Her imagination was so much better at formulating those possibilities and if that was frightening enough then she couldn't imagine what he would actually admit to doing. There had been numerous occurrences reported on by the Prophet recently that made her cringe and to think that her husband was part of that was horrible but to know, well that was on another plane of horrendous. It amazed her that she could be with someone like that. Someone, if she let her mind go there, she knew to be a murderer (thank Merlin she refused to think like that); someone who lied on a constant basis to her if not to protect her than himself and what his stupid tattoo stood for. But she was with him…One hundred percent…And that was probably the scariest part of all. No matter how much she felt she hated him sometimes, no matter how angry he made her--none of it mattered when he wrapped his fingers around hers or when he brought his lips to hers for what could only be described as a magical kiss. She could forget it because she loved him. It was sick and wrong and she knew it but she didn't care enough and could never allow herself to care enough. Rabastan knew it too and played off her attachments, and Moira knew that as well but she refused to resent him for it. Her temperament was not cut out to hate, especially not the man she loved. If he kissed her tenderly and earnestly, as he'd just done, she was pliable and forgetful enough to help the man she knew to be dishonest and of the lowliest level of the moral high ground.

Gently she brushed the fingers of her free hand along the side of his face, her fingertips smoothing over his pale skin as his dark eyes held her light ones. It was easier to forget how annoyed she'd been moments ago if she focused on just how pathetic and vulnerable he was instead.

"I think we will need to convince them we have a private healer, and also make sure they give us the notes so that any healer who does see me knows what in Salazar's name is wrong."

"Wh- " she began to question but cut herself short as she already knew the answer to her question. This was his realm-the lies and deceit-he knew what to do and she shouldn't question it unless she really felt the need to. She would soon be past the point of posing ethical questions, though one could say she was already there by even agreeing to this, and she did at least agree to the fact that time was running out if he was to escape in any somewhat legal or non-blowing-up-the-doors fashion.

"My mother will still have the name of the healer who treated father before he died, whether or not he can help directly I'm sure he could recommend someone who could."

She sat up slightly, not even remotely trying to hide her annoyance at the fact that they would have to ask his mother for help. His mother would probably not give over the name without being just a little bit evil. She wanted to argue but she'd wait until after it was all over or until she forgot.

"I'm sorry…About all this."

"Don't be," she murmured, the look on his face causing her to lie. He should be very, very sorry about all of it but she didn't want to hear it just now. "You can make it up to me later." And he would be. Without question.

She gave his hand one last squeeze before she stood. "What should I do first? You're going to have to guide me along a bit, Rabastan," she spoke with firmness and a bit of a frown, "I've never done this sort of thing so try not to get impatient." She didn't mean to talk down to him (if she did at all) but the last thing they needed was a fight over whether he was being mean to her and if she was being too sensitive in the middle of their plan of escape.