Sina's smile died on her lips, and so, it seemed, did any argument she had. She was stung, and she wasn't sure why; perhaps it was that she wasn't sure she wanted a husband. Perhaps it was that she had little choice; she could seek answers or die, probably painfully. She could die whether they found answers or not.
She watched Pel with a troubled expression, still kneeling, her hands now resting on her lap. "I will," she said, forcing a tentative cheer into her voice. There was no lie in her words.