'You are nothing, elf,' He sneers down at her, his haughty face so near. She wants to rip it off. Tears flood down her cheeks, she can taste the salt, she can taste the humiliation on her tongue.
Death is supposed to be ripping, tearing. She is supposed to feel something when she breaks the rules of the gods but she doesn't, not what they tell her to feel. All she feels in triumph when she snatches his silver dagger from his belt and drives it into his heart. She is still stabbing him again and again and again, when the guards come.