"Why do you do this?" said he. He knew she was awake.
"My friends ruined me long ago," said she. She rose from the bed.
...
"I am not my ancestors," said he. He hoped she would listen.
"You are the closest I have," said she. She walked to his side.
...
"Why keep this bitterness in your heart?" said he. He pitied her.
"What else might I keep?" said she. She stroked his head.
...
"I can offer my wealth," said he. He wished he had something she valued.
"It is worth nothing," said she. She turned from him.
...
"I can offer my magic," said he. He longed for his powers unbound.
"It will not help," said she. She lit a candle, and another.
...
"I can offer my life," said he. He tested his bindings.
"It is a blink of my eye," said she. She drew runes in her blood.
...
"I can offer my apologies," said he. He would not escape.
"That will not let me die," said she. She finished the circle.
...
The circle began to glow a deep red.
"And I will not let you."
He screamed.