There's a leaden inevitability to it all.
"You wouldn't," Falathar says. He turns wildly to Liathar. "Liathar! You won't allow this."
"I am not the ruler here," Liathar says. "Do you really expect me to help you betray our father?" He shakes his head. "Will you at least go quietly and preserve some dignity?"
"I have no intention of fighting," Falathar says, and holds out his hands willingly to the guards.
"Shameful to the last," Cenone says, and turns away. "I believe we have come to the end of the evening. My thanks to you all for coming and for bearing witness to this unfortunate scene. Liathar, take care of this mess."
The crowd begins to disperse, with much unhappy murmuring. Many of the city's most important nobles gather around Cenone, professing to be shocked by Falathar's behavior. Liathar looks near tears but is grimly arranging for Ezren's removal and bidding a quiet farewell to departing guests.
As you leave, you find yourself stumbling on the icy stairs down to the street. Have the lamps gone out, or is it merely that there are dark clouds covering the moon? One lady has already fallen on the stairs and is breathing in ragged sobs as her escorts explode into brittle laughter.
It seems a good night to hurry home and to bar your door.
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