“Don’t pay any attention to them,” he told Isabelle. “What they said … it isn’t true.” “Then why do they say it?” Isabelle asked quietly. Felix looked at her. At this girl. Who was weary and dirty, bloody and sweat-soaked, but defiant. This girl. Who was leading three helpless creatures that nobody wanted away from the slaughter. “That’s not the question, Isabelle,” he said softly. “The question is, why do you believe them?”
