There she was, a perfect little sacrifice. The white gown clung to her, alluding to an innocence that she somehow did still possess. Her curls fell back, revealing those sweet features. The grey eyes, so like Melisande's, the dark hair. The soft white flesh. A collar graced her slender throat and her arms were bound behind her back. Her bare feet slid against the slick floor, but it never cut into the tender skin there.
Even at this distance, he might smell the lilacs, the sweet freshness of her that worked in so many ways like his venom. Only her influence was far more nuanced, a subtle tug at the senses. And then there was the fear. She had volunteered for this, but she didn't have to fake it. She was the bait, meant to keep Gabriel's eyes on her while the binding was completed. And what a lovely little trophy she was. Gabriel had made his point with Andrew. Even if he didn't want to trade his plaything for a new one, the wager was that he would be tempted enough by Liliana to consider it.
When she saw Melisande hanging there, the terror really did set in. Even with Mikino, with all his most trusted men there, one right at her back... Liliana had tasted captivity before, and it was horrifying to consider facing it again. She didn't mean for the protest to escape her, to push back against the rough hands urging her forward. She didn't mean for the tears to slide down those perfect cheeks. But it happened all the same, and while it must have pained Mikino to hear it, it likely had a different effect on the Gancanagh.