ETAN
It was a ploy, and he knew it. But a dangerous one. She sought to intimidate, but she bore the confidence of one who did not make empty threats.
Etan let his lips twist. "Feel your weaves as I say this," he said quietly. "You claim concern for Ayleth's wellbeing and heart—and if you are true, we share that burden. So, know this: If you were to kill me, you would break your daughter's spirit. You would tear her apart limb-from-limb. We are one. You cannot steal that. If you destroy me I take to eternity with a clear conscience and wait for her to arrive. But her? You only destroy her and force her to live a hollow life, empty of the truest love she knows she has ever received."
The Queen blinked. Her face was remarkably still, but so was the rest of her, as if she'd suffered a blow and was waiting to see if she might breathe.
Etan waited. Like a spider in the corner, he didn't take his eyes off her.
