"Where it would be safe," Sienna corrected. "Where everyone would be safe."
"Where it would be buried alive." Marron's hands were shaking. The medicine made the Blade's emotions distant, but she could still sense them—terror, loneliness, desperate pleading. "For how long? Decades? Centuries? Until you die, and then what—the next Champion takes it deeper? It becomes another artifact locked in a vault, another tool that Edmund can point to as proof that these things should never be used?"
"Marron—" Aldric started, but she cut him off.
"It chose me." Her voice cracked. "The Blade chose to partner with me. It taught me about precision, about material science, about respect for what you're cutting. It showed me how to honor the work, not just complete it." She looked up at Sienna. "And yes, right now it's dangerous. Right now it can't control its joy because its sibling is close. But that doesn't mean it deserves to be imprisoned."
