"Doing my best," Will said. Wasn't much he could do, except for be there, and that was all she asked of him and it still never felt like enough.
(What he really wanted to do was be there before, when she'd called out in her prayers. To spare her the horrors of the chain and the violence and the fire. To crush Martin's throat between his hands and watch the ratfucker die. She'd been there through everything and when she'd needed help herself, she'd been alone.)
"I know it's nothing new." He was frowning at the floor. "Men and gods, treating women like things. Property. Still fucks me up."