The shadows played the angles of her face like a pianist on the keys. Beauty danced there in the steady line of her jawline and the crescendo of her cheekbones. The Raven King could not outdo her in confidence, could not overcome her in his evil. "What are you to me" he snarled. "your hands are as red as mine are, you do not get to play an angel." She smiled and repleyed. "My sainthood comes not in my actions, but rather for their cause. I have fought to save a people, not to destroy one"