"What do you think you're doing?"
"Stopping you from making a mess," Cherion snapped back, his own voice shaky but determined. "Step back. Put the sword away."
Zarius's gaze flickered to Soren, who was still pinned in the slush, a pathetic heap of trembling betrayal. "You want to forgive this? After what he's done? After he touched you?" The sword shook, not from weakness, but from the sheer force of the Duke's restraint.
"Forgive him? Please," Cherion scoffed, a sharp, bitter sound. "Who said anything about forgiveness? I just think your sense of justice is a bit... unimaginative. You want to take his head? That's an escape, Zarius. It's a 'quick out' for a man who caused this much chaos. You kill him now, and in five minutes, he's gone. Easy. Too easy."
He squeezed Zarius's arm. "Give him a punishment that actually fits. Not a quick end, but a life of absolute, crushing insignificance."
