Kirkwall was dotted with pyres, what was one more?
Admittedly, this was the only one started with magic, and the only one watched keenly to assure that the deceased stayed that way, but no one really noticed on a day when everyone had their own problems to consider and their own mourning to do.
Marian had noticed and ignored when Sebastian tried to offer her some words of reconciliation. Maker bless Isabela for coming between them before he could speak. She might have done what he wanted, but she had not done it for him, and she did not want to hear his words delivered in the mistaken conviction that she had taken his side.
She had not done it out of some misguided belief in justice – neither the ideal nor the spirit. Nor in vengeance – neither the sin and nor the demon. She had done it to give a man she loved what he dearly needed: rest.
She watched the pyre, the flames consuming what remained of his husk, and felt nothing but tired enough to join him in his rest.