A wine-sodden piece of bread sat on the stone floor, while dark liquid pooled in the cracks between the flagstones. A pair of flies buzzed, sampling the dregs. As Lilias watched, one twitched in midair and fell. Its wings beat feebly, then went still. “You deny me a clean death,” she said in a low voice. “Would you do so if I were a man?”

Blaise nodded at the spilled wine. “Poison? You call that a clean death?”

“It is what is allotted to me!” Lilias shouted, lifting her head. Tears of frustration stung her eyes. “Must I meet you on the battlefield? I’m no warrior, Borderguardsman! I don’t want to wield a sword! You have won; why can you not let me die?”

Her words rang in a warchamber gone abruptly silent. They were staring, now; all of them, Aracus Altorus and the others, leaving off their poring over maps and plans. She hated them for it. The Ellylon were the worst, with their smug compassion, their eternal condescension toward all things mortal.

No; worst was the Archer, the Arduan woman, who stared aghast and uncomprehending. She wouldn’t mind dying on a battlefield.

“You,” Lilias said to her. “Do you think you would be here if you hadn’t proved yourself with a sharp, pointy weapon?” Her voice broke as grief rose up to overwhelm her. “Ah, by all the Shapers! Do you even know what you destroyed?”

“Sorceress.” Blaise moved wearily to block her view, interposing his tall figure between her and the rest of the room. Behind him, the Arduan Archer’s voice rose in anxious query, swiftly hushed by others. Haomane’s Allies resumed their council in more subdued tones. “We are sorry for your grief. Believe me, we are all of us well acquainted with the emotion. But we cannot allow you to take your life.”

Defeated, Lilias let the back of her head rest against the stone wall, gazing up at him. “I have lived too long already, Borderguardsman. If you were truly an honorable man, you’d let me die.” A short laugh escaped her. “And if you were a wise one, you’d do the same. I promise you, this is an action you will regret.”

“If you were an honorable woman,” Blaise said quietly, “you would not have conspired with the Sunderer to deceive and destroy us.”

“All I wanted was to be left in peace,” Lilias murmured. “To live, unmolested, in Beshtanag, as I have done for so long. Satoris himself in his fortress of Darkhaven desires nothing more. Is it so much to ask? We require so little space upon the face of Urulat. And yet it seems even that is too much for Haomane’s pride to endure. Lord Satoris afforded an opportunity, and I seized it. In the end, it is still Haomane’s Allies who raised the specter of war. Did you not seek to fulfill his Prophecy?”