The Broken Eye - Pg 167

   "Greetings, daughter. May the light always shine upon you. Dulcina, if you would like to--"

   "Shh," she said, touching her lips with a finger. "I've already confessed."

   "Then would you like me to lead us in some prayers or songs?"

   She shook her head. "My High Lord Prism, you've been doing Orholam's work all day, and will do so all night and through the morrow. Let me give you a gift. The only gift I have. The gift of my five minutes. You may speak or we can be silent. You can Free me first if you prefer solitude, or at the end if you prefer company. As you will."

   He didn't understand. There had to be some angle, some advantage. It was all she had. It was her last five minutes, whereas to him it would just be another grain in a full hourglass.

   There was no angle. There was no deceit in her open eyes. He started at her for ten seconds, thirty. And then he was furious for no reason he could understand. 

   And then he broke.

   And he wept.

   And she held him. And they wept together.

   And after five minutes, the accursed bell jingled. And he stood. And he begged her forgiveness. And he kissed her lips.

   And he slew her.

   And with her died his faith in Orholam. It had survived war and abandonment and massacres and deceit, but it could not survive the holiest night of the year.