Wheeling Gull Isle wordlessly watching, he waits by the window

Five steps—that was quick. Maegi had never seen such a snake, but she would be sure to observe from a distance if she ever did run across one. Pharaoh might revere serpents, but they sounded to her too much like the denizens of her birthplace. Creatures of the night, reclusive and toxic.

And then his next question came.

Her lips pulled taut, her mouth indecisive on whether to smile or frown. It ended up more a grimace, though crooked, the ruined side of her face endlessly leering. The other side remained fairly stoic, though there was pain there in the way her cheek trembled ever so slightly.

I, myself, have taken life with poisons, Pharaoh, Maegi echoed, her voice itself lifeless. Twice. Once an accident—a terrible mistake made in my youth. The other purposely, willed by my god.

She didn't know whether she was confessing or threatening. There was an ease on her heart from speaking these things aloud. . .but a tiny part of her wondered if she was in fact putting a wall between her children and him—or anyone else who might dare hurt them.

Not that she had a reason to mistrust him. But Maegi had killed, and she would kill again before she let another of her babies die.