Scylla’s not going to rehash her whole history with Evren as she had with Orhan. Evren doesn’t have the emotional connection to the distant figures in Scylla’s memories, so Encantador and El Aran and Daenerys now belong to Scylla alone. Therefore, it no longer matters how much Evren does or doesn’t remember about their previous meeting. Scylla is determined that they get a fresh start.
Remembering the tiredness in Orhan’s bearing the day they met, Scylla now understands it as she feels the lack of sleep in different parts of her body. Her legs are a little stiff and her eyes are burning, but at least with the sun going down and the conversation, she can ignore her discomfort.
It’s even easier to do when she catches a lilt in Evren’s response that makes it obvious that there’s more that’s not being said. Scylla eyes her companion for a moment, but stays quiet for long enough that Evren turns the question back on her. She can’t tell if there’s any judgement in the question, but she doesn’t think Evren would do that to someone who’s basically a stranger.
”I’ve been here and there,” she says vaguely. ”Nowhere was ever as nice as the desert here and it was time to come home.”
Pain flashes through her dark eyes briefly as she thinks of Orhan, the last time she’d seen him not far from this very spot and at the time assured that she’d see him in their ancestral home. Scylla sighs as she focuses on his bay and white daughter, the door for her apology opening with her mention of the desert.
”I’m sorry for the things I said in the desert, Evren. I’d been so looking forward to seeing your father and it never occurred to me that he could have been gone. When you told me he was dead, all I could think of was that I’d lost the last of my family, and I didn’t handle it very well.”
She pauses for a moment, feeling the self-hatred return at the vile words she’d spewed at Evren that day, though apparently in the long run they’d both been able to get past it. ”And I’m glad that you’ve done okay since then, I’ve worried about you.”