Besca caught it early, like she’d glimpsed Quinn’s mind the moment before she broke, and grabbed hold of her. She felt the tears on her shoulder, saw the looks of the few brass and the Board’s dumbstruck representatives. They pulled out their phones, dialed with unmasked and quickly-growing panic. Part of her was glad—they were about to tell the Board [i]exactly[/i] what she had tried to tell them before, that this was a mistake. Part of her wished she could stick around to hear the shrill screams from the speakers, too. 

The rest of her wanted to get Quinn away. 

“[color=gray]Come on, come on, let’s go. I got you,[/color]” she whispered, walking her hastily to the exit. They made it out just as the sobs started, and Quinn’s jellied legs nearly brought them both to the dirt. Dahlia came to her other side, helped how she could. 

“[color=skyblue]It’s alright,[/color]” she tried, but must have realized how shaky her voice was, and went quiet. 

They got back into the pavilion and all eyes whirled on them. Besca let Dahlia guide Quinn to the small, sectioned-off bunks as Toussaint came running over. 

“What the hell happened? Is she okay?”

“[color=gray]No she isn’t [i]okay[/i]![/color]” Besca snapped. “[color=gray]She’s fighting a deathmatch tomorrow, and she only drew her weapon for the first time last week![/color]”

A look of shock came over Toussaint’s face, and Besca found it absolutely enraging. “[color=gray]Don’t you [i]dare[/i]. This is your fault, Jaime.[/color]”

“My fault?” he spat, incredulous. “You’re the one who insisted RISC couldn’t afford to pay restitutions for [i]Magnifique[/i]! You’re the one who told me to find another way to keep [i]our[/i] countries from splitting!”

“[color=gray]Which I expected you could do without getting duped by your own people! Or do you think Casoban plans to pass up on Eusero after we get trounced here? I’d think you did this on purpose if I didn’t [i]know[/i] you were an idiot![/color]”

Toussaint’s face screwed up in fury, but Besca only stepped closer. 

“[color=gray]I want you to send a message to your PM, Jaime. I want you to tell him that if he gets what he wants, and Casoban partners with Eusero, and RISC leaves here without Quinnlash Loughvein, that we’re not allies anymore.[/color]” She leaned down, so close she could feel his breath shallow. “[color=gray]I want you to ask him if this deal is worth every Savior you’ve got—because I promise you Dahlia isn’t gonna be satisfied until she’s mulched every last one of them. And neither will I.[/color]”

[hr][hr]
Dahlia had squared Quinn, sitting with her on one of the bunks. She hugged the girl tightly, mind racing. She should have been like this—broken, sobbing, dreading the fact that she was about to lose Quinn to something so absurd. 

But instead she was angry. Afraid, but also furious. Indignant. [i]No[/i], no she would not lose Quinn. She couldn’t. Besca had been so adamant about the consequences of interfering but faced with the alternative, she was prepared to cut down every pilot and Savior on Illun if it meant keeping her sister safe. 

“[color=skyblue]Shh,[/color]” she whispered. “[color=skyblue]It’s okay. Quinn. It’s okay—I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Look at me,[/color]” she gently nudged the girl’s face up. “[color=skyblue]Whatever happens tomorrow, I’m not letting her kill you. I…I might have been too slow at Hovvi. I won’t be this time.[/color]”