The low rumble jarred her from her brooding. Nyra shivered and shook her head, trying to shake off the lingering grasp of phantom fingers. Taking a step closer to the fire in an unconscious attempt to chase away a chill that was only partially physical she turned to look at him. Her eyes reflected an old sort of sadness and pain and the tiniest glimmer of hope that had not yet been smothered.

"I wish I could believe you, your Majesty. But I know him too well. He always gets what he wants in the end, no matter who or what he has to go through to get it."