Vimes found himself, privately, reeling. They’d done it. They’d won, and nobody had died. He’d been fully expecting a few graves today, and yet- they were all alive, all mostly intact. The truncheon was replaced at his belt, a cursory glance given to the falling Bahamut… “I ‘ope nobody objects. All this talk of forgiveness is all well and good, but she ought to stand trial for what she’s done. Whatever happens to her, after this- it’s got to happen out in the light, where everyone can see. That’s the only way justice is done. If Sen Riqueaux won’t try her, I’ll drag ‘er back to Golsaucia myself.”

His next comment, he addressed to Ramaa. “If it’s any consolation. Even if you do die… I’ve met Death. He’s not nearly as terrifying as you make ‘im out to be.”