"Oh good!" Tristan managed a grin. He flipped the dagger again, catching the flat of the blade on the tips of his first two fingers. He didn't feel up to looking Mallos in the eye, so he watched Angela instead. The blankets shifted as her little chest moved up and down in a gentle rhythm and her small pink fist clenched and unclenched against the covers. He didn't really understand why people liked babies so much, puppies and foals were cuter, but he supposed she did look rather sweet.

"Do you remember a few years ago when the Manekhtites stormed The Cove? And those people were killed?" The dagger twirled through the air again. "Well, Thea had gone to the beach to ride, and when I heard something was going on, I went after her to make sure she was okay. When I got there everything had kicked off and her groom had been killed so I tried to get her out over the dunes. Only some of the Manekhtites spotted us, and I tried to fight them off but there was too many. This woman came out of the sea though and finished the rest of them off." He paused. The dagger sat still, balanced across his fingers. It remained steady as Tristan took a deep breath.

"I didn't make the connection at first, I never knew her name, but when they brought her into the Castle before Angela was born, I recognised her. Angela's mother...she's the one who saved me, Thea too." Tristan broke off, looked down at the floor, and then up to meet his grandfather's eye. "I should have said something as soon as I saw her. It might have helped her, it might have helped you...but everything's been so weird lately and..." He shook his head. Excuses were cowardly things. "I'm sorry."


Tristan
_{the only thing left are the stars}