Don't we know better than to expect perfection? She nodded, assenting in her silence, body turning. One hand gripped the wrist of the other behind the small of her back. Eyes forward, she listened.
Where he chose to begin surprised her; and she frowned, vaguely, eyes dipping to consider the gravel on their path for a long moment.
She wasn't quick to answer.
"You aren't the only one in fault for it. We had things to do, and it's... a personal fault of mine, sometimes." She wet her lips with a flick of the tips of her tongue. "That anything that isn't forward momentum feels like sliding back. Been burned by inaction too many times, perhaps."
"I had other help. It was... uncomfortable, but not disastrous." Her first blood-frenzies, the horror of having made another unwittingly. Working with her mentors to end it, paying blood debts, making graves. Learning by experiment about fucking and feeding, constantly biting her own tongue the first week.
"I'd blindly trusted you with things far more valuable than my life, by that time; no bond of undeath could match the sum of that, to me." She needlessly inhaled a breath, and flicked her tongue to taste sea-salt. "I... resented you, sometimes, but... primarily out of frustrated want of information. I..." She stopped. Swallowed. Eyes forward.
"Thank you. For the apology. It means a great deal to me."
But she didn't stop there.
"I didn't... have any doubts, at least, that by some measure what you'd done was for the best. I trusted your judgement, and even now, I don't know if I'd have asked that it'd be done differently, with the vantage of hindsight." Her voice had thickened; but it was near-impossible to tell whether from anger or hurt or some tightly-guarded combination of the two.
"It was the night you came to me in Mair that broke my trust of your judgement. If I had been more myself, less in agony, I think it's likely I might have tried to kill you."
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Where he chose to begin surprised her; and she frowned, vaguely, eyes dipping to consider the gravel on their path for a long moment.
She wasn't quick to answer.
"You aren't the only one in fault for it. We had things to do, and it's... a personal fault of mine, sometimes." She wet her lips with a flick of the tips of her tongue. "That anything that isn't forward momentum feels like sliding back. Been burned by inaction too many times, perhaps."
"I had other help. It was... uncomfortable, but not disastrous." Her first blood-frenzies, the horror of having made another unwittingly. Working with her mentors to end it, paying blood debts, making graves. Learning by experiment about fucking and feeding, constantly biting her own tongue the first week.
"I'd blindly trusted you with things far more valuable than my life, by that time; no bond of undeath could match the sum of that, to me." She needlessly inhaled a breath, and flicked her tongue to taste sea-salt. "I... resented you, sometimes, but... primarily out of frustrated want of information. I..." She stopped. Swallowed. Eyes forward.
"Thank you. For the apology. It means a great deal to me."
But she didn't stop there.
"I didn't... have any doubts, at least, that by some measure what you'd done was for the best. I trusted your judgement, and even now, I don't know if I'd have asked that it'd be done differently, with the vantage of hindsight." Her voice had thickened; but it was near-impossible to tell whether from anger or hurt or some tightly-guarded combination of the two.
"It was the night you came to me in Mair that broke my trust of your judgement. If I had been more myself, less in agony, I think it's likely I might have tried to kill you."