10/13/2026, 1:04 AM
fa’liya stills, the morsel caught delicately between her teeth before she relinquishes it. the correction is innocent enough, but it finds something tender regardless. iglux̂ is not her mother. morwenna is, and fa’liya cannot imagine surrendering even that small distinction for the sake of politeness.
perhaps the girl does not know. there are so many children now, so many different mothers, that fa’liya supposes the distinctions must seem unimportant to those who have never needed to make them.
her attention returns to the meat. hunger has become an almost painful thing beneath her ribs, but the prospect of eating before an audience is considerably less appealing. especially one so young, so curious.
she nudges the offering back toward yesbaa, a faint tenderness tempering her otherwise solemn expression.
no, yesbaa. your mama,she corrects softly.
mine is morwenna. she is gone from this place.
perhaps the girl does not know. there are so many children now, so many different mothers, that fa’liya supposes the distinctions must seem unimportant to those who have never needed to make them.
her attention returns to the meat. hunger has become an almost painful thing beneath her ribs, but the prospect of eating before an audience is considerably less appealing. especially one so young, so curious.
it smells very good,a kindness, though no less truthful for being one.
but i cannot. the spirits require that i take my meals at certain hours.a convenient falsehood. the dead have never expressed much interest in her eating habits.
she nudges the offering back toward yesbaa, a faint tenderness tempering her otherwise solemn expression.
you can have it.