"I will give you two choices," Sylas said calmly, looking past the Duchess and toward the expansive city below. "You can either do as I say calmly and without hassle, and I can give you a way out of here. Or, you can die here, and then wait for me to kill every iteration of you that exists. Make your choice."
The Duchess frowned.
Every iteration of her?
She was still trying hard to reconcile memories of herself that she didn't quite understand. They were prisoners here; they weren't meant to understand what would be happening to them in the first place. The fact that the Duchess even had an inkling was because of Sylas.
