The Heartwood man was born to sin, set him free and he will be a sinner

At their calls, the Crown Princess beckoned with infinitesimal twitches of her ears. A feeling that might be called love but for how deep it ran welled up inside her (as it often did when she moved in one mind with her sisters) as she slipped into view. Her movements were purposefully languid, sinuous. She'd moved past her anger at Vaati, and now she saw only a strong male, pale like her father, who'd almost succeeded in slaying one of her enemies. Would have succeeded if not for the intervention of their combined and superior force.

And now, Alya used her force to sweep in behind him, rage fettered only by well-remembered oaths, too deep for words to know. Masks, she thought, moving alongside Lyra to propell him into Hydra's line of sight, a low, soothing croon at the back of her throat.

She stopped just beyond Hydra, well within Vaati's view, a smile equal parts mystery and welcome on her ink-dark face. This smile, slight and vague though it was, had been practiced for hours in front of her sisters and on various victims, willing and unwilling alike. One might liken it to the Mona Lisa, if not for the edge of something dark and writhing that danced just behind her eyes.