It took a moment for Rose's words to sink in, and for Ziotea to get past her initial, incredulous response to what sounded like raving stupidity. Even then it was just too funny. She laughed, a short burst of mirth that faded into sadness. "You really believe that? Spare me, girl. Asherahn was not there to help you either, and if what Essa showed us is true, then how would He be any better than Varya? Might as well submit to the hunger of the Ravenous Lord: He's still fighting. Asherahn hates -- and if He fights, Asherahn fights for Himself. The gods are selfish. They do not care for us, not any of Them."
She didn't know the truth of what had happened back in the time of the gods, and while she wanted to know it wasn't for Them. If Rose was looking to her for answers, the child wasn't going to get any. Ziotea had only questions, questions and resentment. "If you want to seek refuge in meaningless ideals, that's your choice. I put my faith in the strength of my spear, the skill of my companions. In the things I know, and can rely on. Not absent gods and empty hope. And I've yet to see any reason to do otherwise."
Ziotea set her shield down against the wall, eyeing the steel shards scattered around. A wave of her hand sent the loose ones skittering up against the wall, out of the way. She'd have to check the beds over before they sat on them, and she didn't have the patience to dislodge the ones buried in walls and ceiling. I'd probably bring the roof down, anyhow. "You've heard the one piece of worthwhile advice I had to offer. You didn't like it. That's your choice. Now get out of here. Go tend to your nursemaid. If she dies, the choice won't be yours any longer. It'll be mine." It wasn't a kind thing to say, but Ziotea wasn't interested in being kind. It might have been a little bit of an overstatement, but she wanted the girl gone, out of her face with her blind faith and unselfish loyalty. If it took a little cruelty to accomplish that, so be it.