There's a strangled sense of panic at the line of questioning. An urge to bash his head in for daring to suggest such things. She could put her hands at his throat. Do her best to squeeze the air out until he knocked her off or Io did. Are they all so eager to see her gone?
Rosamund swallows thickly, looking to the floor.]
I...would rather not. Thank you.
[If she has to die in the company of others, she'd rather do it among the people she's died with before.
She'd rather die where she knows what happens afterwards.]
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She looks at him briefly from her seat, then looks away.]
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[...]
Is there anything I can do for you?
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[Her jaw clenches.]
And why are you wasting time offering favours to a murderer?
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[...]
Miss Du Prix. I'm going to ask Io if there's anything we can do to remove whatever it is that pushed you to do this. If we can't, though...
What do you want to happen?
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[Her lips twist. She shakes her head.]
I just don't want to be here. It's making me into something hateful.
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[quiet, after a moment.]
If we can't undo the change that's been done to you, do you want someone to kill you?
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No. I can't stand the idea of it. I won't put my life into anyone's hands.
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There's a strangled sense of panic at the line of questioning. An urge to bash his head in for daring to suggest such things. She could put her hands at his throat. Do her best to squeeze the air out until he knocked her off or Io did. Are they all so eager to see her gone?
Rosamund swallows thickly, looking to the floor.]
I...would rather not. Thank you.
[If she has to die in the company of others, she'd rather do it among the people she's died with before.
She'd rather die where she knows what happens afterwards.]