"Come," Owain said, his voice gentle as he guided Jocelynn closer to the suspended Inquisitor. The knife felt impossibly heavy in her hand, the strange curved blade designed for skinning prey rather than the sorts of delicate knives she was accustomed to for the dinner table, or even the simple utility blade she'd carried while riding or traveling.
"We'll start by removing his robes," Owain said calmly, resting one hand on her back, between the shoulder blades, while he used the other hand to guide her knife hand. "Just like he stripped away your beautiful dress, we'll strip away the precious robes he thinks will keep him safe."
