Lion Head Mesa Curiosity killed the cat, but the cat died knowing

The aspwoman was having none of this.
She did not owe this former omega any kindness, nor the Sesh — he did nothing wrong, he says, a blissful ignorance that brings a chuff from her lips.
She could have lashed out. Could have told him that Khaba killed her lover, that this fool had fought alongside him anyways. That Khaba had become a megalomaniac. She could have snapped her jaws in every which way, let the grief control her;
She does not.
She scowls to the Sesh, a sour grimace with a wrinkled nose. You know nothing, she barks out, rather matter-of-factly. He was nothing but a nuisance to her in this situation — but! The Queen was fond of him, so she'd heard, and so for now, she lets him linger.
But that may have to change.
Turning her attention to the intruder, her tongue flicks to run over exposed gums. Her expression is stone cold. Not an ounce of emotion, emotion that he did not deserve. State your business with Akashingo, she repeats, a proud flare of her nostrils. I protect the Queen. I will not hesitate. You have sixty seconds.