Harrowheart's impassioned speech is met with wary, worried eyes as Isidor watches him, but she doesn't move away when he leans closer. Not even when he takes her hand and she finds herself staring at the cold and the warm clasped together. Watching him, feeling him kiss the back of her hand is surreal. It's something that can't happen, but just did. Her head is swimming. She can't focus.

Everything he says is so kind, so considerate, but there's something wrong with it. She frowns and shakes her head. "But I don't want them to hate you. I don't want them to think you're a monster, or someone they need to banish. I would rather..." Her jaw tenses and she looks away. It takes her a minute to choose her words. "I don't want you to go. I want you to stay more than I want anything else."

She goes quiet again, touching her hand where her palm met his, and then she looks out at the scenery. "I won't be the one to make you into a monster. I won't let anyone else, either... I just... haven't figured out how to make sure of that yet."