The Ironspine Duke listened in silence. After a long moment, he slowly exhaled.
"Legacy..." he murmured, his gaze growing distant. "This is what is most exasperating, and also most admirable, about you idealists. You see the thorns and traps on the path ahead, you know the hope of success is as faint as a candle flame in the wind, yet you still choose to burn yourselves, trying to light even a small part of the way."
He suddenly took a step forward, closing the distance to Elizabeth.
Twilight had almost completely enveloped the side hall. Only the faint light from distant wall sconces, which had begun to ignite automatically, cast shifting shadows across his face.
"But, Elizabeth," he said, his voice dropping to a low, strangely magnetic tone, "what if I told you there was a way to increase your chances of success? Not as a tool to be used and quietly discarded, but as a chance to truly wield that tool, to use it according to your own will. Would you be willing to listen?"
