Keats has her attention next. She bows her head slightly at the sympathetic words, otherwise largely impassive. The loss is no less painful to her now than when it was fresh, but it is still an old one, a familiar pain. Silence meets his question for some time, and she does not look up again as finally she breaks it.

"I believe. I believe Ryba has no wish to end this world and rule over nothing. She has been kind to me when all I knew burned and washed away, and I believe she will hold true to her word."

She has no choice to believe, as well.