Lily imagined the horror she felt at the revelations must have been akin to what Bluebeard's wife felt upon opening door of the forbidden room.

"...You were just using me?"

Was it really as she had worried about in the beginning after all? Why she had hesitated to get involved with him for so long. The idea that like that psychic back in Geneva, he might have just been interested in her for her powers and how it might benefit him, rather than for herself. After all they had been through, the idea hurt. She looked between the Shadow and the original, eyes sad with tears that it was impossible for a witch to shed.

Yet even after the Shadow's confessions of wrongdoing, she couldn't deny that she would have been sad if Lezard were to be sent away by that contraption, back to his ruined world, to his death.

But what was this...? He couldn't stand the idea of her hating him? Despite the Shadow's claim, she felt like a fool. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been in an alleyway surrounded by skeletal monsters and clinging to Lezard's sleeve, desperately hoping it was some nightmare and that things would be okay again. Why didn't she just run away, abandon him?

"Why should you care if I hate you? You seemed to care little of people, always hiding away with your books."