"This is madness," Owain said as he stared at the flaming sword pointed at his chest from little more than twenty paces away. "My reign ends? Why? Because you wish it would? Because you've convinced the fools here to call you 'Saintess?'"
Owain's voice dripped with disdain as he openly mocked the people who called her 'Saintess.' It was a risky move to paint with such a broad brush, but he had very little choice at the moment. Owain could feel his options diminishing with every heartbeat as she turned the tide against him, and if he didn't shock these incompetent cretins, they'd never come to their senses enough to understand what was really happening here.
