For one fragile moment, Arkath thought he had misheard.
Surely, he must have. What mother would not run when given the chance to spirit her child away from a burning city? What mother would not leap at safety, at survival? Was it not the oldest duty of womanhood , to nurture, to protect, to keep the line alive?
But then he met her gaze. Those deep, steady brown eyes. The firmness there was like stone, like iron driven into the earth. And in that instant all doubt drained from him. She meant it. She meant every word.
Confusion flooded him first, then fear, then a rush of disillusionment so sharp it felt like a knife. Why? Why would she throw herself into ruin when the path to safety was open before her?
"Why?" The word tore out of him before he could stop it. "Why would you do that? You have the chance to flee, to live, to keep your son alive! Why won't you take it? Why won't you take what any other mother would in your place?"
