Moonspear never be so kind you forget to be clever

Still no smile breached Sialuk's face, despite the children who had come from her sister. She looked up only when Ariadne spoke, a sister she did not know well, but a sister just as close as any had been to her heart. It pained Sialuk to know that the children's mother would never know her. That they would grow up never seeing her face, never speaking her name. Never knowing her warmth. Sialuk would provide for them—there was no question in that—but would she ever be able to see them without thinking of sistraa? She did not think so.

Tell me the questions you have, Sialuk said in their mother's language, weary. She knew that speaking of their troubles would help release the pain, though it would be long before their mourning was truly over.