“Better me than taking after her father.” I reply cheerily. I'm not sure anyone could or should dissect why Carnage and I made babies, but suffice it to say neither of his children from me are turning into crazed sadistic murderers. Mischief makers, certainly, but only for the sake of hedonism.
I grin at Hestia. “I haven't been a filly for a very long time, and it's doubtful I suckled my mother longer than it took for her to be on her feet and walk away after birth.”
I don't hold it against Epic. Some are made to be mothers. Some aren't. And some of just choose to stick it out whether we are good at it or not. I have never held my mother any ill will. Cade and I did just fine without her in our life and it seemed an enormous waste of time to be full of rage over her abandonment. She was a bit flighty and she probably forgot she had us nearly as soon as she gave birth. Other than the day she gave Cade and I life, I only saw her one other time. Two years into my reign she dropped my little sister Nyx off at the proverbial door for me to raise.
Nyx. I blink, looking away to glance at my daughter. That's who Namaah reminds me of. Delicate and feminine and beautiful. In other words, nothing like me. Or her father, but I figure that goes without saying.
My father, by the way, was apparently a sperm donor because I never heard a word from that one.
“I had no idea.” I say to Fennick, rather dryly, when he introduces me to Hestia. Does he forget I read minds or-? Aw, poor boy. He's defending her. Seems our second man has a weakness. Adorable.
Reading these two's minds is like watching a romantic comedy. I'm dying to tell each one what the other is thinking. He likes her, she likes him, etc. Just kiss the girl already. But spilling the beans would spoil the fun, I suppose. I sigh inwardly. Mind reading is such a burden.
And gods, do I love it.
“Well, what skills are you looking to improve? Fennick here is a jack of all trades and I tend to have more skill fighting.” I grin at Fennick, wondering how a mock between he and I would turn out. Perhaps that will have to be put on the agenda. “I was a diplomat for ages but I tend towards brutal honesty. Apparently that's not always desirable in diplomacy.”
It's age. It does something to you. Eventually, you just stop caring what others think.
G A L L O W S
We must all hang together or, assuredly, we shall all hang separately.
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