like a lamb to the slaughter

She made it through the whole process, which was great, but he wasn't surprised when she stepped back and threw up into the grass. Tyrian watched her impassively. He was long past the point of incredulity so he spared no scathing thought about why this could move her to empty her stomach when, presumably, she saw the same scene at mealtime and managed to tuck in and not throw up as she ate. The world was a strange place filled with strange, sad creatures. This was becoming all the more real to him as the morning progressed. He gave her one wordless shake of his head and opted not to make a comment. It seemed fitting to let her vomit stand, so to speak.

Tyrian took a deep breath and shared a long look with Tashi. The langur's face was dispassionate to anyone not familiar with his idiosyncrasies, but Tyrian could read him like a book. They were in agreement. The young king turned his attention to Aryn. He was tiring of this; all of it. In truth he wasn't sure this woman would learn. He felt genuinely bad for her and was truly tempted to keep her and try to teach her right. But, and this was important, he recognized that if he did, this was the sort of infuriating challenge he'd be subjecting himself to daily. Just the thought of repeating this morning was giving him gray hairs.

His mind was made up. He was going to let her leave without slaughtering a lamb. "Alright, I think that's enough. Aryn, I'll take you to the border now. Tashi and Zahir can handle the rest from here." He'd come back and help with the smoking or whatever Tashi wished to do after Aryn was sent off.