"I doubt you will," Elizabeth sighs and makes another tiny noise of discomfort as the last of it comes out. "The Fitzroy Clan will blame his death on me. Use it as a rallying cry, they always do," she sighs, looking troubled. "They're not really into 'facts', they like to make their moves based on how wronged they feel. Which, admittedly, can be justified sometimes, but sending an entire clan after one neophyte witch is overkill. They count on these things to happen so that the clan will stay fixated on me--not on whoever happens to be standing nearby."

...Yes, she's completely oblivious to the idea that he might be talking about her.

Elizabeth hovers her hands over the red slashes in her leg and starts muttering to herself. Moments later, it looks as though the injury had never happened. She is, apparently, very good.