Rimea backed away from her husband, her heel catching slightly on the edge of her embroidered skirts, though her posture remained fiercely upright. The tears of betrayal that had threatened to fall only moments before seemed to flash-freeze in her green eyes, replaced by a cold, desperate dignity that surprised even herself.
"I will do no such thing," she said, her voice dropping into a low, deadly register that quivered with pure venom. "You may stand there in your grand armor and convince yourself that I am a helpless bird with nowhere to fly, Cedric. But I have hands. And I swear by the old gods of the Storm, I will gladly take up a sword and sever your pathetic head from your shoulders if you dare take another step toward me."
