“At best, you’ll learn it’s the real one as only the clones would have possibly been dispelled. At worst, well, thou still wouldst not know for sure, but thou would be too dead to care.” Handy narrowed his eyes at the pony. “Well, your Highness, doth thou truly wish to know whether or not th’art a murderer?” She looked down. He couldn’t see her eyes or hear her sobbing but saw the dark spots on the floor as the tears fell upon the dusty stone as her shoulders shook. Just as he thought, she didn’t look like a killer, didn’t have it in her eyes. She’d never follow through on what he challenged her to. His initial estimation of her seemed to be on the money. He sighed before nodding to Crimson, who deactivated her horn as he turned around and—