Her face was caked with dried tears. She felt dirty and used, and swore to herself she would not relive that again, for despite her hopes of redemption, there was no forgiveness, no cleansing. There was only the guilt, the remorse, and the shame. She half-wondered if Gregor knew she would be put through this. She smelled a conspiracy and decided she would have to have a talk with the old codger — a long one. The Hoyaneh were satisfied with her answers and would discuss the request for aid. They were going to send help, and her gut told her they would have despite her interrogation. The questions were a test of her loyalty. That was the sole reason she endured the humiliation of facing what she hated most about herself. She had bared the truth, every last scrap of it, and it felt like a steel bear trap around her heart. The Chiefs gained from the knowledge, as it would help in the coming war, but it was the proof of her worth they wanted, and she had proven it in a torrent of tears. There would never again be any question of her loyalty.
