Ishara started laughing again. Her raspy chuckles echoed strangely off the damp limestone, a dry, rattling sound that ended in a bitter cough. She shook her head, her dark eyes wide with incredulity, the silver links of her bindings clanking violently as her shoulders trembled.
She rested her head back against the cold mountain rock, her silver chains clinking softly as her shoulders shook with genuine amusement.
"A god?" Her voice cracked with dry, rattling amusement. "I never knew you were one for jesting, Lord Sylas." she said through her lingering laughter, her dark eyes glittering with disdain.
"To think the ruthless King of skyreach would descend into the dark just to spin court fables about divine intervention. A god descending to heal a damaged princess? It sounds like the sort of rot a drunk bard sings to peasants for a copper bit."
