Episode 75

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MIKAEL'S POV

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"It's nice to see you too, Micky." She draws near, and the impulse to rise, springing up to a stand—so I tower over her—spears through me like a lanced harpoon.

"Desist from calling me by that ridiculous epithet. And do not toss aside my question. Why are you here?"

She tsks, unmoved by my sore temper or the threat of my exposed canines. "You always did hate that moniker. Not sure why. It suits you quite nicely, brother." Her fair hair shimmers in the muted lights of the room, a contrast to her dark gown and cloak. The slick strands are as I remember them, pale, nearly ashen, and to keep with the tradition she'd grown with, twisted in the most intricate of updos.

It was mere centuries ago she was a little thing sobbing inconsolably that she was not permitted to wear her hair down, to let it be wild and free. Now, she keeps it bound of her own accord. The irony. But then again, it is no call for surprise. She's done much I once would not have believed to be in