...or they would have in a less formalist society. As it was, the king and the prelate entered a private audience room in the castle. Abraham took one look at the shellshocked prelate and shouted down the corridor for mulled wine and cold cuts. Iohann nodded thankfully.

"...Much obliged, old friend." - he sighed - "And the thing is, I can not complain because I literally asked for it!"

Abraham snorted. "Iohann, if there is something I learned this autumn, is that you do not ask lady Gillespie to just 'make something'. Because she WILL." - he proffered wryly - "Now, take a moment, sit down, gather your thoughts. Drink a bit. Then tell me about it."

Prelate sat down heavily and rubbed his forehead. "Cat clergy. Just... why. And how. But mostly, WHY?!" - he groused - "Now, I am quite happy that between the musical artifact and holy cats, our temple pretty much blesses people with all sorts of good things by itself, but... why cats?!"

"Probably the first suitable thing she found." - king offered to him placidly - "I've seen how she works and I've heard plenty of reports. When she's in the fey mood like this, whatever's handy goes into use, and if nothing's suitable, she just conjures it."

"Lady Gillespie is the most powerful case of divine enlightenment that our country had ever seen, yes. And blisteringly clever on top of that, too. Add one to another, and..." - Iohann trailed off - "Actually, there is also a third part. If it was just the first two, she'd be an artificer of great renown, but her crafts would be one-off uniques. Artifacts. Curios. Treasures. Instead, we have someone who not only can create like she were an embodiment of Argyl, but also to teach the common craftsmen how to achieve it."

"That's actually a very curious thing about her." - Abe commented thoughtfully - "The way she breaks down what she does into little bits that can be taught to passably bright commoners. Teaching the entirety of it to a single person looks very daunting, but if a craftsman can be allowed to hone their skill on making one bit? A manufactory is the word, I believe. A number of artisans, each crafting one detail, and a mechanist that would oversee the process and put the details together. That's what the dwarves are doing in the Grand Forge, according to the reports of duke Gillespie. And his own people, I gather."

"I wonder sometimes." - prelate mused - "Just what is that she is trying to build to try and make all of the kingdom into one, what did you call it... manufactory?"

"Oh, I wondered about that too." - Abraham chuckled - "According to her? A brighter future."

"More prosperous one, in any case." - Iohann agreed - "Although... will it be happier future? I can hardly think everyone would be content with a role of but one cog in the machine..."

"Come now. If she truly thought happiness is how much you can craft, why would she build a musical instrument, of all things?" - Abe objected thoughtfully - "She knows the value of art. To wit, she even encouraged my haphazard son to embrace his skill with bagpipes as something worthy of respect. No, I hardly think she would make everyone into cogs. Some people, sure, but she knows the value of not forcing square pegs into round holes. Those who become the cogs will be ones who accept it."

He shrugged, took a long sip from his goblet, and smiled. "Now, tell me about this cat clergy of yours. What is this all about?"

"Exactly what it sounds like." - Iohann retorted - "We had a number of cats in the temple, mostly because they keep the rat numbers down and are quite impossible to expel even if we wanted them gone. Now? There are cat domiciles in the rafters. And a gizmo of some sort that permits their, uh... hierophant, she called it... To write words for us to read. It seems that cats understand us just fine, they just can't talk back... Or, at least, the cats in the temple. I asked, and turns out your average housecat is by their measure 'bigly stupid'. But if taken into temple and allowed to stay there and listen to that musical artifact of hers? They smarten up. And learn some light magic. Not like we do, obviously, a cat can hardly hold a flower. But like creatures do. Quite simply, you sit down, wait for a cat to jump on your lap, you pet the cat, and voila, you're blessed. I have very mixed feelings about that, Abraham. On one hand, this is tremendously convenient and frees up the acolytes and priests to attend to more complicated tasks. On other, I can't help but feel a little devalued by the fact a simple cat can bless as well as I do."

"Well, if it helps you sleep better, consider this." - Abe mused - "The cats are but simple creatures. Perhaps the reason why they can bless is simply because they neither comprehend nor care for the evils a man can harbor."

He quirked his brow at Iohann, whose expression at the moment could most aptly be summed up as "bamboozled".

"...Good gods." - Iohann proffered at last - "That does help, strangely enough. Of course they can bless, for they know no sin."

"So? What are your plans regarding your unexpected reinforcements?" - his friend quipped.

"Actually, well... Apparently, there are also facilities that help the cats train up the, uh... Catification party." - prelate admitted - "Basically, a team of them complete with artificers that could build suitable domiciles in the other temples and inhabit them to spread the cat service, as it were. In short, there are provisions to eventually furnish every major temple in the kingdom with their own cat clergy to help the human clergy out. Gods help me, but lady Gillespie does not think small..."