[That is too bad. She knows what it is like to love him, though she has not done it well or for nearly long enough. Alexiel watches him, her hands slipping into her pockets; that should keep them steady and out of his sight. She has never been fond of her hands.]

I am dyed crimson by the blood I have spilt. I have lived and died for love. You may not think that monstrous or foolish, but - [She shrugs, breathing in deeply.] I am still in love.