![Image](https://i.imgur.com/Jk7dv3p.png)
There was something about this – having a front-row seat to all the little wet clacking noises a miraan’s jaw made, and that funny inexplicable tuna smell, and the proximity of those razor sharp teeth – that made it harder than usual to focus. Or maybe it was the proximity of other razor sharp things, or maybe it was the fact that he’d nearly laughed when Cerise had replied, nearly laughed more than once.
Only he wasn’t laughing now, and neither was she. And worse, she seemed resigned, rather than the angry he had wanted, expected.
But they slid into the rhythm before he knew it, before he even knew he’d taken a step; and he wasn’t sure about middling scores, but they both must’ve been middling, because nobody stepped on anybody’s toes.
“I suppose it is,” he murmured. “A little too late.” You already know they’re like strangers to me, he couldn’t bring himself to say. You’ve already –
I’m sorry, he couldn’t bring himself to say.
Forward, right, close. Back, left, close. In the corner of his eye, Sish’s golden tail swept through the air. He saw talons curl on Cerise’s hand, and he straightened his back and steadied himself, trying not to dip or jar either of them as he led.
He saw Sish’s long curling tongue flicking over Cerise’s hand, too, over and over. He felt a horrible pang.
He shut his eyes, breathing in deep. “This is a rather new experience,” he said, the smile falling from his face as he turned his back to Lucrezia and Tatiana. But it twitched back, even then. “Maybe we should put Sish on my head. I don’t think she’d like it very much, though. Or maybe I should invest in a corset, after all. What do you think?”
It was easy to tease. It was too godsdamned easy, in fact; he barely knew what had come out of his mouth ‘til it was out in the air, and then it was out, and there was little he could do to draw it back in.
“Ah,” he sighed, “I, ah – I should’ve asked when the last time you saw them was, and if they knew about the… dueling. And I should’ve asked about –” He swallowed, closing his step and opening his eyes.
They turned, and he forced a thin smile to his face again, Lucrezia in the corner of his eye.
He said, “About your mother,” and he was relieved when the smile could fall away again. I’m sorry, he wanted to say, and couldn’t quite seem to. The most beautiful woman in the world, he didn’t want to say at all. “But, uh – most of all, I – do you want to tell her? Lucrezia. She’s your grandmother, not Tatiana’s. If you do, I’ll back you, for whatever that’s worth.”
He’d been looking somewhere around Cerise’s pointed nose. They turned again, and he smiled thinly again.
But the smile tilted a little, gone crooked – horribly, strangely crooked, as if he couldn’t control it at all – and he met her eye, though he had to lift his chin a little to do it. “I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to, but if you want her to know, I… I’m damned proud. Of you. It’s hard not to talk about it.”
![Image](https://i.imgur.com/LOhlBrQ.png)