Lion Head Mesa Dandelion

“Suffice it to say I wish to know.”

She does not understand what compels such defense. Only that her panther brother’s secret would remain, even as twisted and dark and wrong as it felt.

Neith’s heart flutters with pain like embedded arrow tines. She turns the guilted eyes upon her favored, glossing with their fear. A princess should not speak so brusquely; not to her trusted footman. It would be one of the most difficult lessons to master– disagreeing with those she cares for most.

“Tell me of each cycle,” the amiirad prompts, forcing calm into her girlish voice. Knowing Charmion would not deny his mistress.