She was about to stop.

I had thought carefully about how to do this, in the days before I came back to the estate, and I had made one decision that mattered more than any of the others: I was not going to rescue Yvaine.

I was going to fight beside her.

It would have been easier, in a way, to do it all myself — to take Fitzroy’s evidence and my own to the authorities and let the machinery grind the Pembrooks down while Yvaine stayed safely out of it.

Cleaner.

Lower-risk.