Despite how faintly the vampire had whispered, the intense glare into Sybil's eyes made the words sound like they were raining down on her. Even with her training to resist the fear of the leeches, Sybil could feel her hairs standing on the back of her neck, the cool sweat gathering on her palms. Listening to the leech sent a shiver of fear and anger running deep through her. Sybil knew though, despite the menacing gaze mixing her thoughts, that this was the only chance she'd get to be not publicly executed and drained dry. Slowly, without moving her gaze from the Queen, she dropped to her knee. When the cold stone brushed against her leg, she finally bowed her head.<br/><br/>"The continued life of Prince Cyne holds more value to me than ten score deaths of your own kind, so on my word as the Prince's Highest Guard, not a fight shall start by my own hand against your kin." The cold stone under her almost reminded her of the cobbled stones she swore to protect Prince Cyne on. That was many years, and many more scars ago. And that ceremony was one of honor, not this lackluster admittance of defeat in a dungeon, watched over by a vampire Queen and her own Prince while she stay completely in the nude. As a symbol of her servitude, she stuck out her hand, palm up.<br/><br/>Looking upon the kneeling Sybil, Cyne had to admit, he hadn't expected Sybil to agree so easily, but when she put up her hand, he knew she was looking for his approval. Laying a balled fist in her hand, he ran his fist over her own, his father's own version of a handshake. "She speaks the truth, that gesture is my father's own. The same gesture she used when she pledged herself to protect me actually." A short relief made it's way into him, a burden lifted knowing he wouldn't have to watch her be executed for trying to save him.