For a handful of heartbeats, Cossot couldn't move. She couldn't speak. All she could see was the hilt of the strangely glittering dagger in Dame Sybyll's hands while her mind raced with the speed of a galloping horse.
Never in her life had she thought that someone should die. No, that wasn't true. She'd been raised from a young age to believe that demons should be purged from the land, and she'd never once questioned it. As a young child, she'd even cheered for some of the young boys in her class when they picked up sticks and acted like knights, fighting off 'demons' to rescue Cossot and Roseen from certain doom.
She'd never once considered that the 'demons' were people too, and after meeting Lady Heila and Dame Sybyll, she was both embarrassed and ashamed that she'd ever cursed them without even knowing them. But she had never in her life wished for the death of a person that she knew, much less thought of taking up a blade to do the deed herself.
