Her brow furrowed slightly as his response was closer to a compliment than the inflammatory remark she had been readying herself for. When she'd asked him why he wanted rid of the thing he'd cited the possibility that she might die. Now he refuted the idea that she was particularly fragile? That left one conclusion, that he was being irrational, didn't it? The possibility of her dying in childbirth had never bothered before, certainly not to the point of sacrificing his own child. It made no sense, it was irrational, it was also exasperating, and deeply unsettling. Tiberius was a great many things, mostly variations on obnoxious and frustrating, but he wasn't irrational. Tig wanted to unequivocally know what sort of logic he was using but she was gripped by some instinct that said she really didn't want to know.

Consequently she decided to act as though she'd never asked the question and thus never heard the response.

"What is it?" Tig lifted the vial off the desk and shook it. "What is it going to do to me?"

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