[ Indeed, beside the fire, in the echo of violence and hiding from the shadows of such creatures, what else was there to talk about? It was painful, but everything else felt trivial, pointless. She finally pushes back to sit, helplessly exhausted with the night as much as - everything. Is everything too much to say? When did she last sleep a whole night all the way through? ]

My naivety. I was always a stupid girl. [ The laugh is bttter, worthy of her mother. ] In another that's a kindness to not know how awful the world can be. In a Queen? It is a death sentence.

[ What else is there but to hate herself? Truly? To accept what comes as penance for her crimes. ]

But the mirth is mine, in the end. It turns out I was better than them all at this game. Killing.