Disclaimer: Kushiel's Legacy and any of it's related characters, locations, and items do not belong to me, but the wonderful Jacquelin Carey. I make no profit from writing this.

Inspired by the 10_orders community on LJ; original prompt - "Shut up";

A/N: The fic is inspired by the prompt, but I had to use 'be quiet' rather than 'shut up' to keep it more in-character/fandom appropriate.

"Hurry, Phèdre!" Joscelin held the door of my cell open, waving me forward as though the faster he moved his hand, the more compelled I might feel to move. Instead, I remained firmly rooted to my ratty pallet, hearing the sounds of the few guards outside of the prison closing in around the others who had helped him to break into La Dolorosa.

"No," I said plainly, not able to bring myself to meet his eyes. I knew what I would find there by the moment of silence that passed between us.

"Why n-" he began, only to pause for a moment. "It's her, isn't it?" His voice had grown cold, and it cut me deeper than I had expected. What my eyes gave away when I looked at him, I do not know. But my voice did not tremble when I answered, "Yes."

"Elua, Phèdre, why? Have you forgotten all that she has done to you?" Joscelin stepped into my cell, all sense of urgency forgotten in his anger. He loomed over me where I sat, his expression at once furious and pleading. "What has Melisande offered you that should outweigh the past? Does this do justice to Remy and Fortune, to lay yourself at her feet? To your lord Delaunay? She would have placed the Realm in Selig's hands, and you would-"

"Be quiet!" Before my eyes, what anger there was in Joscelin's eyes faded, and I found myself looking up into an expression of despair. "You believed I did not need you, Joscelin, and you walked away from me, as much for what I am as your own feelings. Melisande, for all that she has hurt me, has never failed to love me in her way." Despite my resolve, I felt the hint of tears welling at the corners of my eyes, and held them back. Elua knows, I've loved him, but even an anguissette may have her limits. "You did not love me enough to stay that day," I said, looking away from him at last. "And I no longer love you enough to leave."