[Picks up from i would no more teach children.]

Victòria stays around to watch the school burn. 

It's beautiful. Some of that is just the way the fire looks against the night air but she thinks most of it is just the knowledge of what they're accomplishing, here. She keeps an eye out for stray sparks and stray guardsmen.

In the distance, she can hear people chanting — bastard diabolist and praise Iomedae and murderers. More cries that she can't quite make out from this distance. A few blocks away, torches march down a street, flickering in the darkness.

She hadn't been expecting it to work quite so quickly. 

It wasn't that Valia didn't have a point about how sometimes it might be best to tell the Queen and let her handle the nobility. It might even work, for anything as serious as outright diabolism. But she'd had a year to get rid of the Evil nobility, she probably could've taken down Victòria's lord in a minute if she'd tried, and — it wasn't like it was a secret, that there were still servants of the Thrunes in power, and she'd chosen to ignore it. If a noble was hurting their people in ordinary ways — coercing their servants into sex, weighing in on legal disputes to favor their partisans, having farmers whipped for using the wrong title — that certainly wasn't the sort of thing she would care about, whether they was a servant of the Thrunes or a newly appointed loyalist. They'd deserve what they were getting even if they'd given up their Evils the day Asmodeus lost, but even an azata couldn't deny that the nobility was going around continuing to hurt innocent people every single day.

They hadn't exactly talked about it, hadn't even really dared to think about it, but deep down, Victòria had hoped that people still laboring under Asmodean tyranny would hear about Valia's speech, look into their hearts, and realize that no matter how weak and defenseless they might think themselves, vengeance and true freedom could be theirs. But most people aren't Good enough to stand up to tyrants just for hurting other people, people on the opposite side of the country, people they've never met and never will meet, and Victòria hadn't really expected the people of Westcrown to take up the cause. She hadn't even had a chance to make copies of Valia's speech yet. 

But maybe it's like Pezzack. Maybe only takes a few people to stand up and say this isn't right, and that's enough for others to join them.

She wants to join them. Wants to find every nobleman who thought they could get away with hurting ordinary people, every wizard who burned houses of innocent children to death, every teacher who whipped a child until they couldn't walk, and give them what they deserve. Wants to make sure they can never hurt anyone ever again. But — they were careful, but — she can still hear the azata's voice, ringing in her ears. Sometimes you set fire to someone's house and the fire spreads. If the school fire gets out of control, she needs to be able to help Raimon fix it before anyone innocent gets hurt. She'll have plenty of time once the school is burnt to the ground and its smoldering ashes drenched in water.

At some point a voice in her head tells her to stop rioting and go home, or else to a temple of Abadar. She ignores it. Of course whatever powerful holdover wizard is speaking to her doesn't want ordinary people rebelling against the mighty; of course she'd rather maintain her power and status than face the wrath of the people she hurt and the people willing to stand with them.

Sometime later the rains start to fall. The school isn't fully destroyed, but it's burnt out too bad to be usable, and that'll have to be good enough. She satisfies herself that the fires definitely won't continue to spread and then heads back to her inn; in weather like this, she's not going to manage to accomplish anything against anyone who hasn't already been killed.