Try as she might to, the chestnut mare could never seem to fit in - or even understand those who surrounded her. The Inlet herd was full of particularly kind individuals, and as a gentle heart Kvothe should have felt at home in their midst. Instead, she still somehow felt like an outsider - quite possibly because that was all she’d ever known before her arrival on the islands. Of Narene’s large herd, only the old matriarch herself had ever accepted the red filly born into their midst - and even she had turned on Kvothe in the end. As it always did, the scar on the Friesian’s cheek ached at the memory, as did the heart that still beat in her chest. She had loved the grey-muzzled woman like a mother, and would never truly move on beyond that betrayal.

But perhaps that was why she was so determined to believe the best out of anyone. Narene had cared for her, and loved her. Being cruel a single time could not erase that kindness - especially since it was grief that had driven her to attack the exiled girl in the first place.

In any case, it had been easier to understand her place there, and the expectations that were held of her. But here, in the Inlet? Kvothe often felt like a crumpled leaf drifting in an errant breeze - without direction or purpose. And when she thought she had things figured out - such as her belief that the Queen would prefer she remain home, where it was safest - it was always wrong. “But Med- my Queen, I couldn’t be a prisoner here. The Inlet is my home, and the only place I’ve ever been happy.” Even when she’d been with Ironclad elsewhere - such as their time in the Cove and the Shore - Kvothe had never felt as comfortable and content as she did in this place. And if she was a prisoner in the Inlet, then she would sooner embrace that fate than be free anywhere else.

The painted dun continued on to explain that not all creatures were kind. That there were some who wore that kindness as a mask, and used it to hurt others. But the red woman knew that a mask was created by someone who was familiar with what it represented. In other words, if someone was acting kind, then they knew of kindness - and could not be wholly absent of it themselves. Whether or not Tyr had intended to trick her, his actions had still shown true compassion. If claiming her was his only purpose, he wouldn’t have even needed to pretend. Kvothe was smaller and more slender than the bachelor, and no fighter. He could have taken her on the Inlet’s shore, and had done with it.

No, she still believed that that particular course had been brought about by her own actions - but since Medusa seemed so firmly against that mindset, the chestnut held her silence even as the Queen voiced her intentions to speak to Tyr. At least, until her companion voiced a question that brought the world down around her in fire and ash.

If you are pregnant, do you want him to know the child?

“Pregnant? No, I - I can’t be.” Was the earth supposed to tilt and whirl around her? Kvothe squinched her eyes shut in the hopes that it might help, but she could still feel the sickening motion, and swayed slightly. “I’m his. Ironclad’s. Medusa, will he - will he still want me? And the child, if there’s a child, will he-” She swallowed at the dark thought that had surfaced. A chestnut filly pushed away from her mother’s side, and left unprotected by her father. A child abandoned to the tender mercies of fate. No matter what the consequences of her own actions, she could not let that happen to something so young and blameless. “He wouldn’t let any harm come to it… would he?”

It was an awful question, and Kvothe wasn’t even sure she wanted to know the answer. But she had to ask - not for her own sake, but for the sake of a second life that may well hang in the balance.