A life like hers should not be marred by regrets, so I advised the Marchioness toforget the Earl and the Governess and proudly wear her Yellow Sapphire again. Then I told her to reunite with her old friend, the Carefree Devil, which lead to the expected outcome.
But for me, the most interesting snippet from this story was:
"[…] when London fell. You could get away with anything really in the old days. No one batted an eyelash if you murdered a neighbour for salt. […] But, […] when it became apparent that death was the least of anyone’s worries, people gradually began to return to the familiar."
I think this is the first direct hint to the state of life in London during the first weeks or months after the fall. I guess we have to imagine these as fairly anarchic times. In this light, I find it a very interesting observation by the Marchioness that the discovery of Death not being permanent (in most cases) did not lead to more carnage, but actually helped make people return to more civilized behaviour.
To use the Marchioness’ own example: I can see in mind’s eye how the neighbour you murdered for salt yesterday turning up on your doorstep again today, just a little worse for wear, and haranguing you ("Look, that was really unnecessary! I would’ve given you the salt if you had just asked nicely!") might make people pause and think.
If you put this into context with the Presbyterate imposing a 1000-year-life law on their immortal citizens — presumably to keep them from getting drunk on power and each and everyone turning themselves into little demigods — and the question the Banded Prince puts to you at the Court of the Wakeful Eye, with all its possible answers and his Ministers’ intense reactions to those — well… I guess my train of thought derails here. But it certainly makes you think about the role Death plays in the Neath, and opens the door for endless cryptophilosophical debate. ;)