"No," Lilith said. There was no pause. "I do not feed on them in that way. I touched where it would make her blink. I do not cut that place deeper than a blink."
Elowen's eyes flicked to hers, and there was warmth in the small smile that moved her mouth.
"And I put those pictures on a shelf," she said. "I did not break them to prove I could. That is our peace."
"It is," Lilith said.
The Matron watched their eyes, not their power. She nodded as if making a mark in a book only she could see.
"Good," she said again. "Keep that peace. The world will try to spend it for you."
The Ancestress turned her attention to the veins still glowing in the root beneath Elowen's feet. "You drew deeply," she said softly. "More deeply than you let mortals see."
"Yes," Elowen said. No apology lived in that word—only fact.
"Can you still stop when stopping matters?" the Ancestress asked.
Elowen let out her breath in a long line. "Yes," she said. "When stopping protects those we hold."
