The blood pounded in her ears like a drum, the ballad frantic and uncoordinated as dust scuffed under her boots in a background symphony. If she swallowed, she’d taste the blood of her swelling lip. Sharp as a thorn on her tongue, and as bitter as betrayal.

“Leave her alone— She didn’t,” Leviathan’s voice faltered, stuttering off into a choked gasp. Her throat constricted around the words, like prey in the maw of a beast. “She didn’t— She’s innocent!” She pleaded, red crescents boring into her palms from where she clutched her hands into fists.

Mother halted, her dress of mauve silk bunching around her white-knuckled grip, “You— You’ve brought shame upon us. Upon this family,” She whipped around, pupils shrunk and frenzied in— in anger. Her tone was sharp, each syllable another dagger in Leviathan’s heart, carving past the mortal flesh and deep into her soul.

“Brought shame upon _me. _Levvie I—“ Mother froze, eyes softening as salty pools gathered in her waterline like a mural submerged. And just as quickly as her hesitation began, harsh waves of electric, crimson fury bubbled back up. “Leave. To your chambers, wherever you wish, I care no longer. Just— I ask that you leave me be.”

Leviathan shrunk back, lip quivering. She halted. It felt as though she was yelling over the rapids, desperation muted in a cacophony of waves. “Mother, please. I am begging.” She dropped her gaze, mouth pressed into a thin line lest she wails like a newborn. “She did nothing.”

“Maybe not her.” Her mother’s— the queen’s— voice cut through her eardrums like the whip of a flying arrow, “but her very family. That same family that… How could you disregard what they have put us through? Put your own sister through.” Mother rasped, and Leviathan didn’t need to look up to know the tears had fallen. Her outer shell shed like the trees during red-leaf.

Leviathan clenched her jaw, hissing, “Im not disregarding Eqi. How— How dare you?” She jerked her head up, the scowl pulling at her expression evident in her voice, “I loved Eqi. And… I love Chirre. This is not a familial matter in the sense you think of it as.”

“It is, whether you’d like it to be or not,” Mother spat, the wind picking up at their feet and threatening to bring her sayings with it.

“Please, just this once, let me— Let me have this,” Leviathan cried, “Her loss is not to be forgotten. I have never forgotten, on the morrow I will remember. Each of the four seasons I will mourn, but—“ She blinked back the tears threatening to spill over, “—But I do not plan to mourn another. Not Chirre.”

Mother shook her head, “No.”

Leviathan paused.

“No. No, you— you will not mourn her. Because you have not loved her.” Mother’s lip curled around each word, strained and vacant of mercy.

“She will be sent past our walls, to the second most gate—“

“Mother, no—“

Her voice only grew, echoing through the vacant courtyard, “She will. She will be kept under watch until her damned family makes an effort—“

Leviathan’s brows furrowed, teeth grinding painfully. Blood dripped from her palms. She shouted, “They will not let her off easily, she may be banished, even, please mother. Don’t put her through this— don’t put me through this.”

Mother turned away on her heel, away from Leviathans fogging gaze. And yet, facing away, the wind carried her words to Leviathan like a bountied secret.

“We’ve been put through one too many tragedies as is, but this time,”

Dread pooled in Leviathan’s gut, breath hitching. Her face wet, eyes growing splotchy and red.

“I am doing what’s best. For you, for me.”

“For our family.”