Page 47 of With Wing And Claw

No arguments, noSashka… and yet her tirade faltered, tongue and lips stifled by nothing but a wordless look.

That definitelywasunderstanding in those blue demon eyes – understanding and an odd, resigned calm, the very opposite of the guilt-ridden despair that should have appeared in their place. And Naxi didn’t cower in the cushions. Didn’t send her tangled vines to attack. She just sat there, small and unyielding, and …

And far too close, now that Thysandra had a moment of silence to fully notice the distance between them. Close enough to distinguish every lash and freckle. Close enough that the tips of her own dark hair brushed the thin shoulders she was still clutching with such desperate force.

She hastily loosened her fingers a fraction and snapped, ‘What?’

‘You’re upset,’ Naxi informed her.

‘Oh, really?’ Her voice soared again. ‘How very fucking useful to have a demon around! I hadn’t noticed yet! Listen, someone just tried to fuckingkillme – of course I’m—’

‘Haven’t people tried to kill you for centuries?’ Naxi interrupted, brows drawing into a slight frown. The small tilt of her head brought their faces even closer together – five inches at most between their noses. ‘I thought that was just life at the Crimson Court. Were you in such a state over every single one of those attempts?’

‘No,’ she said through gritted teeth, ‘because most of them didn’t accuse me of becoming like my gods-damnedfather.’

Naxi blinked.

Just a single blink, but a clear-enough sign that even those all-seeing demon eyes could be surprised. ‘And that’s all?’

Thysandra bit out a cutting laugh. ‘Is it not enough?’

‘Nobody died? No one else was terribly wounded?’ Naxi’s gaze shot down to the blood on her dress. ‘You weren’t harmed beyond repair? It’s just—’

‘Who cares about my wounds?’ she exploded, yanking back her hands for the sole purpose of flinging them towards the ceiling. ‘Do you understand this mightkillme if it spreads? Getting this court wouldhave been a bad enough look for someone without a treasonous family history! But with them knowing what my father did …’

She fell silent, not daring to finish that sentence – to make the consequences real by speaking them aloud.

Naxi didn’t move. She just sat there in the golden sunlight, staring up with that small furrow between her brows and something in those cornflower eyes that was nowhere near penance and guilt, and far, far too close to thoughtful interest.

‘So what exactlydidhe do?’ she finally asked, unusually slowly.

Thysandra stiffened. ‘Beg your pardon?’

‘Your father.’ Naxi shoved forward on the couch so that she was able to perch on the edge of the seat, her feet touching the ground for the first time. Her thin elbows settled on her thighs. ‘I know he was executed, but—’

‘He betrayed the Mother.’ Too brusque. Too sharp. She couldn’t help it – not as the sight of those snarling hounds rose in her memory again. ‘As they’ll all accuse me of doing, if that wasn’t abundantly clear.’

‘Yes, yes, very dangerous, very troublesome – but how did he betray her, exactly?’ That dangerous little head-tilt was a sure sign of trouble. ‘We all heard about his death on the other side of the archipelago, but the details never reached me. What did his treason entail?’

The silence lasted just a heartbeat too long.

The space on Thysandra’s parted lips felt just a little too hollow.

‘He …’ she stammered, because surely it would come to her if she gave herself a moment, wouldn’t it? Surely this was just another of those things she’d buried deep, deep in her memory, another little fact she’d rather never look at again? ‘He … well …’

‘You don’tknow?’ Naxi said, eyes narrowing to slits.

Again that treacherous silence.

It still didn’t come to her.

Itshouldhave. Everything in her memory felt like there ought to be something in the place of that odd blank spot – a lack of knowledge that wasn’t agap, exactly. She would have noticed a gap. She would have wondered, asked questions. This … this was rather as though an existingmemory had been blotted out, leaving everything else in her mind unaffected.

Was this what trauma did, shielding off the parts of her that were too painful to remember? But then, she’d never forgotten those snarling hounds …

‘I was very young when it happened,’ she said weakly. ‘I never asked for details.’

The suspicion on Naxi’s face didn’t soften. ‘How old were you?’

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