"Oui," she sighed absently, falling into Lancelot's native tongue before she caught herself. "I still want the same things as before, only now I understand them far too well. There is no veil of denial to hide behind. And she..." Trailing off, Lexi's jaw tightened, her eyes staring blankly at the far wall. "I wish," she began again, lower this time, rough and raw, "that I could hate her, hate him, half so much as I hate myself. But fate is not that kind. I love him still, with everything within me, and again I must watch as she wins his affections. And I was fond of her, once, so very long ago. I cannot hate those that I love, as much as I would like to."
Finally turning back to Cecilia, she gave the other woman a bitter smile and poured herself more to drink. "Nathan is just as lost as the rest of us. Only he shows it not by hiding, but by trying his damnedest to understand. If he fumbles, it is out of earnest hope. I think, though, he is beginning to see the folly in Merlin's single-minded desires. None too soon a realization."