Irene knew she was going to die.

***

Therelane, blind with pure ecstasy, scarcely felt Irene jerking his arm until she slapped his shoulder.

"Therelane, let go of her – she's fine now – and come here. There's things to be done. I'm afraid they got all over the hospice before we were aware of it, and they won't all flee like those did."

"Aye – aye," stuttered Therelane, coming fully back to the world. "What are we going to do?"

Irene stared far away, her youthful, hardened face frighteningly sober. "Therelane, do one thing for me, you silly, indecisive dreamer-boy."

"What?"

"Tell the girl you love her. She's waiting for the word."

"I–" he started.

"No-one cares if you lost your hand, Therelane. At any rate, she doesn't. And that's what matters. Will you tell her?"

And because she did not sweep away, rushing to the next thing that had to be done, Therelane knew she needed to hear and that he needed to tell her.

"Yes," he said, and with that promise he felt a light yet profound weight settle on him. "I will tell her."

"Good." Irene whipped away.

***

This is the first time Irene has mentioned Therelane's attraction to Mirda, or given any indication that she's aware of it. In fact, she was aware of it (she have to be blind not to) but, per her usual lack of involvement in her brother's affairs, she carried on with indifference and privately rolled her eyes at his lack of gumption.

But that night, she knew. Maybe it was another manifestation of the Grey family curse (there were reputed to have been seers in earlier generations). Maybe it was an enhancement of her own personal gift, that she could not only discern harm to others, but discern it beforehand in herself. Whatever the case, she sensed she didn't have long to live.

And so for the first time, instead of just giving her brother a dressing-down about his shortcomings, she demanded a promise. She didn't rush away to the next thing. She didn't give him one of her brusque orders and leave it there. She wanted to hear him give his word that he would speak.

That's why Therelane sees her face as "frighteningly sober". Even her word choice hints at it, if you know what you're looking for. "Do one thing for me--"

But she doesn't say a word. It's not the time or the place. The hospice is crawling with soldiers, the patients are dying, the city is going up in flames around their ears. There are things to be done. Irene has people to save, and she keeps on saving them till her dying breath.

***

"Therelane!" snapped Irene and smacked his hand away from the hilt of the sword. "You be quiet. That won't help." She turned coolly to face the soldiers, spreading her arms wide as though to hide all of them behind her. "I am a descendant of Ridith, of the house of Ithera. Werevulture blood flows in my veins! These are under my protection, and do you think to touch them?"

***

Anyways.

I know. I'm evil.

The other day, I remembered out of the blue, "Oh yeah! Irene knew she was gonna die. I should write about all my deliberate hints in that scene."

Should I do more Easter Egg chapters like this one? Maybe something more, uh, cheerful?