Vierna frowns. She doesn't think he understands - which is surely partly her own doing, she's always been a little bit careful not to show him too many of the sharp edges her upbringing left her with. She's not even sure why she does it, save that she does enjoy his company. She's not ashamed of her Menzoberranyr sensibilities, but neither does she relish the idea of frightening him away. (Is he a friend? Abbil, not abban? Is she now the kind of person who has friends?)

But somehow, in her family's chapel - or a close facsimile - it frustrates her that he wouldn't understand. "Radley, I mean no slight when I say I doubt it's comparable." She turns and points at the spider-shaped sacrificial altar. "Twenty-seven years ago, I tied my father to that table so that my mother could put the sacrificial dagger in his heart. If I had hesitated, I am certain that she would have taken that as evidence that I, and my youngest brother, ought to be destroyed as well."