"You knew I couldn't do this," she whispered, her voice hoarse, her words sharp, just loud enough for Sieglinde to hear. "You knew I wasn't up for it, but you just sat by and let it happen anyways. There would be people alive today if you had stepped up, if you had done something."
You'd like to think that after all the time you've spent with Sieglinde, you can read her better than most, even if that ultimately doesn't amount to much. And when Lucille admonished Sieglinde in her grief, you were almost afraid that there would be a fight. Not that you expected Lucille to win, but you like both of them, don't want to see either of them hurt, and knew even then that this was the worst time to start something. But Sieglinde's expression just remained impassive, guarded, and you realized that after all this time, you really can't tell what Sieglinde is thinking - never mind feeling - at all right now. There was nothing but the stoic expression of an elven lady who may very well have been chiseled from stone. She merely looked at Lucille for a moment - a gesture that wasn't dismissive, but may as well have communicated nothing either way - before turning and continuing to walk towards the Great Hall. Elizabeth merely snorted and walked on.