"Show that you can't do anything, that she left you and died somewhere unrelated to us. Make him take you back, somehow!"
Since Anton refused to heed their words, they needed a language he couldn't refute. Cold, hard evidence. A corpse was the ultimate truth-teller. And if Arzhen could make it look like it wasn't related to them—
"We have to act fast, Arzhen. We… let's just leave. Pack what we can and ride south before dawn. At least we won't be here when they finally put it all together and come for our throats—"
"Calm down, Mother."
Arzhen's voice cut through her panic. He peeled her frantic hands from his arms.
Elara looked up at him, her breath catching. Why… why did he sound so sure? Where was the same terror that was clawing at her own insides?
"They don't have enough proof," he stated.
"How can you be so—"
