She had been, of course, stripped of her sword. That did not mean she did not have a weapon. She<em>was</em>a weapon. When the man summoned her forward, she looked back to the crowd of people. She nodded her head, and made a small movement with her hands that told them everything would be fine. This seemed to ease tensions in the crowd, and several crying women and children stifled their tears. Then, Lyra focused her attention once more on the gloating gaze of the man who had called her. She wanted nothing more than to punch that smirk from his face. But it was the snort from a soldier standing behind him that caused that amber gaze to snap on the soldier. Those gaze stayed focused on the soldier, boring into him. She walked forward, slowly, her gaze not on the man in charge but on that singular soldier. She already knew what she was going to do, even if it killed her.<br/><br/><br/>When she was signaled to halt her progress, she looked back to the obvious one in charge. She studied his face for a few moments before her gaze drifted back toward the soldier. She took a breath as if she were about to speak - but instead of words, she shifted on her feet. With a blinding flash of speed, Lyra ambled and side stepped just enough that she was close enough - just close enough that the heel of her boot met with the offending soldier's throat. She struggled only a small amount as the soldiers around her grappled and forced her onto her knees and pinned her arms behind her back. She spat onto the pavement in the direction of the man she'd attacked, and then smiled up at their leader. A wicked sort of grin with a small laugh. She hadn't moved to attack him. It was obvious that she understood that no amount of fighting would win her city back at this point - that didn't mean she had to take any sort of disrespect from this man's underlings.<br/><br/><br/>Despite her appearance, she had shown that she was lightning quick and a fairly well trained fighter. She had even displaced a few soldiers before they'd gotten her onto her knees, so she was strong enough despite her slim frame. She knew when the war was over, but she was a proud creature and it was obvious now that any slight against her she took...<em>very</em>personally. Again, she licked her split lip before turning her head enough to wipe her chin against her shoulder. After that she kept her chin high - if she was to die here, she would not do it as some whimpering fool begging for their lives. She wouldn't threaten this man, or tell him about how the south would rise up against him and smash him against the stones like the ocean waves. She didn't need to. He would find out in his own time. Pity, though, that she wouldn't be around to see it.