Aravis wiped her slender blade against the dark fabric of her trousers, smiling as she bent over the crumpled form of Ahoshta Tarkaan; leaning in, she whispered into his ear, “Now you will never force yourself upon a young girl again, Ahoshta,” and she pulled down the front of her veil to reveal herself to him.

His eyes widened, and Aravis placed her finger over his lips, adding, “Calling for help would be unwise; there is nothing that can now be done for you, and Tash, may he curse you eternally and darken your eyes forever, does not look kindly upon cowards and cravens, nor do I,” she warned, “so if you would like for your death to not become any more painful, you will not make a sound.”

She rose, watching as death took its hold of him, and as she turned to leave, she heard the soft tinkling of bracelets, and she saw in the shadows, half-hidden behind the curtains, the wide eyes of Ahoshta’s young wife; Aravis nodded to her, whispering, “Go now; you are free of him,” and the girl vanished in a rustle of silk, and Aravis replaced her veil and melted into the shadows.