(Right. Since we need a tie-breaker I'm going with the noble option. Partly because it would've won if not for my own laziness in getting up today.)
The slender, silver-haired Ecclesiast would crouch to your height, one hand on your shoulder, and gravely meet your gaze. "Angels keep you, most beloved child, and teach you Their wisdom and compassion as you grow into your birthright."
Once, when you were perhaps eight, your father caustically interjected: "Hiera Olynna…it's a humble enough birthright as it is. Too much compassion, and it'll be naught at all. Perhaps for once, you could pray down a measure of ruthlessness?" His tongue faltered as both Olynna and your mother turned mordant eyes on him, but he stumbled on regardless. "After a-all, the…the Angels have seen fit to grant it in abundance to, to the others you bless so often, Holiness. Our cousins the aristarchs, the Hegemonic Alastors, the Thaumatarch…"
"I pray the same prayer for them that I do for your House, kurios," the Ecclesiast said sternly. "And to contrast compassion with strength is a most profound error." She allowed the tense silence to persist for a minute before bowing and exiting to attend your House's nine helots.
At every Harrowing, Ecclesiast Olynna would open the ceremony with a solemn demeanor, reading passages from the Mourning Psalter as well as the Victory Liturgy. She would walk out into the crowd to each helot whose name was called, clasping their hands to lead them up to the sacrificial platform.
And before the implacable Hegemonic Theurges gave the helots to the machine, she would pray in a voice resonant with grief: "Angels give them strength for the terrible glory that awaits them. Angels honor their sacrifice and comfort their families. Angels, bless these humble warriors who by laying down their lives preserve us from Xaos!"
Nor did Olynna leave it to the Merciful Angels to comfort the families. After each Harrowing, she made sure that the victims' kin received additional food, cooking gear, and clothing. Her charity was particularly visible when the winter rains were approaching, with carpenters hired to bring the survivors' shacks to a state of extraordinarily good repair. The carpentry stopped just short of providing doors—helots were forbidden anything that could be barred against intruders—but the Ecclesiast saw to it that new, thick blankets were nailed up in the entryways.
Of all the ways that Rim Square's priest put the tithes of the nobility to use, this kindness to the despised helotry was the most consistent and controversial. Even as a child…
1) I wondered whether there weren't more appropriate ways to use that silver.
2) It seemed natural to me that the helots should be helped in their grief.
3) I thought it was scandalous. Why such softness toward the dirty little beasts?