Qeya River star

star eater does not meet his eye. instead, she turns her gaze to the river, watching the water pull at the ice along its edges, dark currents twisting beneath the surface. her breath is steady, but her body holds tension in its lines—coiled, like something waiting to spring.
you think my voice aired above the men in my court?
it is not a question in need of an answer. her voice is flat, but there is something else beneath it, something bitter, something cold.
you think my word held weight against the blades drawn against you?
her shoulders shift, her ears pressing back.
i was not silent, she says at last, softer now, though no less sharp. but i was not enough.
her tail flicks once behind her, and still, she does not look at him. the truth of it tastes like iron in her mouth, but she will not dress it in prettier words than what it was.