For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Yselle said quietly, “You survived. Do not confuse that with winning.”
Sabine met her gaze.
“I do not.”
Yselle’s mouth curved fractionally.
Not a smile.
Recognition.
“Good. The kingdom is going to test that daily.”
She turned to leave, then paused.
“The question you asked me,” Yselle said.
Sabine waited.
Yselle kept her eyes on the door. “Perfection does not save women. But it does teach them where every knife is kept.”
Then she left with Marrow retainers, already moving like someone who had gained knowledge even if she had lost the prince.
Sabine watched her go and understood Yselle would become a future force.
Rival.
Opposition leader.
Dangerous political ally under the right pressure.
Not finished.
Tavi appeared next, blunt and sardonic.
“Funny. When men bleed in a chamber, they call it history. When women do, they call it suitability.”
Sabine almost smiled.
“You survived too.”
“Yes. But I am going home before someone decides surviving makes me useful again.” Tavi paused. “If war comes, send word. I am better at that than trials.”
She left without ceremony.
Brinna came last.
Still pale from the suspension draught.
Still shaking slightly.
She looked at Sabine with wide, frightened eyes.
“Is it over?”
Sabine did not lie.
