"I know," Lenore says, brow furrowing a tiny bit in empathy. "I'm sorry." She shrugs a little, apologetic but also acknowledging that what's done is done. "I won't bother with excuses. My sisters decided that the place was strategically valuable. We tried negotiation, it was declined." And quite rudely declined. Lenore can see where her pet learned manners.

"So we're here now, you and I. You're hurting, body and heart and pride. And I know it's hard to try and imagine anything else, any other life. I know it must seem easy to die, and Striga denied you that. Continues to deny you that. You'd be dead by now if it were up to Carmilla or Morana."

Rising to her feet, Lenore picks up her basket and hooks it over her arm. "Think about it. What you want. What kind of life you'd like to bargain for. I'll be back in a few hours and we can talk further."