Ryllans grasped it forcefully and placed the knife in it, his own hand tightening her fingers around its hilt.
‘Kill him,’ he said with a casual nod towards the sleeping Arwain that belied the immovability of his grip. ‘Have your heart’s desire. The object of your endless scheming. Fulfil your darkest ambitions. I’ll not hinder you, on my word.’
Nefron’s lean, handsome face had become contorted with shock and bewilderment and she began to sway. Ryllans put a powerful arm around her and jerked her upright. ‘No, Nefron, there’s no escape on the battlefield, you kill or you are killed,’ he said, his foreign accent suddenly strong. The hand holding the knife in hers pointed it towards Arwain.
‘Kill him now,’ he said. ‘As you’ve always wanted. Destroy the product of your husband’s divided, p
