companaichâ:
âThen who killed my father?â She asked after a few quiet moments. SheâŚstill wasnât certain how to take the news that Hilda was dead. Despite everything that the woman had put her through, everything that sheâd done to Tine - and, gods, her aunt - somehow, Ishtar couldnât quite hate her.
She was still my mother.
âI guess it doesnât matter.â She muttered after a few seconds. Ishtoreâs was the one that she was truly angry with, him and Reinhardtâs. But she could deal with the complicated feelings she still had for her mother at a later date, shaking her head and wondering where everything had gone wrong.
She should have forced Ced to kill her. Instead sheâd let herself surrender after Tine begged. She was so close to having been free of all of thisâŚ
âOf course I donât know that. Your mother never mentioned you - we had no idea you existed. Looking back, itâs one of the bravest things Iâve ever seen anyone do.â She snapped back at him. Her temper was flaring and she needed to find a way out, her eyes narrowing. âWhat more did you expect from me then, Arthur? Ishtore and I couldnât be there to try and help Tine all the time. Especially not after my mother handed me off to-â
She clammed her mouth shut, eyes closing as well as her shoulders quivered. Ah, yes, that was the other thing she was still trying to adjust to as well. Realizing exactly what someone you thought loved you really thought of you, and their actual motivations for all the times you thought they were âhelpingâ youâŚshe was trying her best not to think about him at all.
âYou donât know, either. You might think you know, but you donât.â
"I don't know," Arthur says, spreading his arms in a wide and irritated shrug, "but does it matter? If I admit I wished I could have done it, does it make a difference now? You clearly don't think much of me already."
Then, the reveal his mother had never spoken a word about him. At first, it's like a rock sinking in his stomach - and then he wants to laugh, laugh and laugh because of course his mother had never mentioned having a son, now what about anything else about other children, what about another daughter-
But of course, Ishtar has to drop another rock on him. He's sure the shock-horror must be obvious, that his face has drained of color and his jaw hangs slack at the implications in her unfinished sentence. For a moment all the anger has drained out of him, and heâs ready to maybe accept that Tine had been right and maybe he can find it in him to forgive Ishtar, to let her be part of the family-
Which means, of course, that she has to ruin it. Rage like fire flares back through him in an instant as he draws himself up, half-snarling and eyes flashing. Itâs paradoxical and strange, how he canât acknowledge his own pain but her implying he canât understand hers makes him want to drag out every awful thing thatâs ever happened to him and throw them in her face, proof of something, proof that he could understand if she let him or that theyâre the same or- or-
"How do you think I stayed off the streets in Silesse," he says, voice flat and hollow. âMaybe thatâs not the same. Maybe itâs nowhere near the same! Who knows! I sure donât, as youâve so clearly stated. I know nothing about you and you know nothing about me.â
He gets back up and turns away from her, because heâs furious and seething and it will only get worse if he has to keep looking at her. âWe will never see eye to eye.â
