With no other recourse, you entreat the Matriarch. Your words fall on dead ears as Cyprian stands dangerously close to the edge of the platform. A slight gesture, as if waving a fly away, makes him fall back over the lip. Not even a scream breaks the silence. Only the sound his body makes when it hits the ground far below. You count yourself lucky she spared you. "There are worse things I could have done to him," the puppet croaks mindlessly, and you know she is right.