I laugh.
The guards shift near the door. Even Renan goes still.
"How old is your daughter, Taren?"
"Seven. She's seven, please, I was just trying to—"
"Seven." I press the blade flat against his chest. Find the edge of skin just below his collarbone. "Seven years old. Needs medicine. You did the math, didn't you? Her medicine versus some mortal girl's location. Easy numbers."
"I didn't think they'd—"
"You didn't think." I peel back the first strip. Slow. Watching the skin separate from the muscle underneath—wet, red, glistening. "That's the problem."
Another strip.
"You didn't think about what they'd do with that information."
Another.
"What they'd send to take her back."
Another.
"Who they'd hurt to get to her."
His thread is almost black now. All the lies burned away. Just terror underneath.
Good.
I lean close. Let him see my eyes. Let him see what's behind them.
Nothing.
"I've been watching her sleep." Quiet. Conversational. "Did you know that? I sit in the dark and I count her breaths. I know exactly how her chest rises and falls. I know the sound she makes when she's dreaming. I know—"
I stop. His blood is warm on my hands. Pooling on the stone.
"You sold the location of the only quiet thing in my entire fucking existence."
The knife finds another edge of skin. I pull. Slow. Let him feel every inch of it separating.
He screams. The sound echoes off the stone. I let it. I want everyone in the lower levels to hear. I want them to understand exactly what happens when someone threatens what's mine.
"Forty gold."
Another strip peels away.
"That's what you decided she was worth."
Another.
"Her safety."
Another.
"Her peace."
Another.
