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“Elain,” I urged as Nesta continued simmering, “why don’t you sit? Yesterday was hard for all of us—not only last night, but I’m sure what Bryaxis showed you left you shaken. What you saw was a lie, nothing more. Let’s get some tea and we can talk about this.” I slid a reproachful glance to Nesta. “We don’t need to find answers today, but—”

“I don’t want to be here.”

“All right, we can go to the dining room—”

“No,” Elain said, the word shaking. “I told you last night. I don’t want to be here. In this house. This city.”

“I’m afraid there’s . . . We don’t really have somewhere else for you to go.”

I could see all the fight drain out of Elain, from her slumping shoulders to her drooping head. Even the color seemed to leach from her skin, her hair. “My life wasn’t supposed to turn out this way,” she murmured.

“Well, it did,” Nesta said, even as that silver fire banked. “And you can either wallow in your misery or make something of it. But don’t destroy everything for the rest of us in the process.”

The brown eyes that lifted to Nesta were pure, frozen fury. I didn’t recognize a shred of the warm sister I knew in them. “And what of the leniency you received for a whole year? Am I unworthy of that?”

“I was drinking and fucking my way through this city. Not jeopardizing key alliances when we’re on the brink of war. We should have spent this morning discussing how to deal with Bryaxis and why she reappeared. Instead, we spent it trying to find a way to salvage the mess you made with one of our few allies.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

Elain slowly shook her head again. “I don’t know who you are anymore. I don’t think I even like this person.”

Nesta picked at her nails, longer than they had been in the midst of her Valkyrie training. “The feeling is mutual.”

Elain just whirled to the door. She slammed it on her way out.

For a moment, we said nothing. I dared a peek at Nesta to find her face pale, features tight. Gazing at the swords littering the floor as she dropped onto the couch.

“I don’t agree with Elain, you know,” I said tentatively.

Nesta’s eyes lifted to me. She looked wretched. Exhausted.

“I know who you are, Nesta,” I said, willing her to see the earnestness in my stare. “I see who you are becoming. Yesterday, the way you fought for us, for Nyx, the way you got up, ran after Bryaxis—I’m proud of you.”

Nesta’s throat bobbed. “And are you proud of that whole . . . display?” She waved a hand toward the space where Elain had been, indicating their argument.

“That,” I admitted, sinking onto the couch beside her, “is not going to live on in history as one of our finer moments as sisters. But you spoke a lot of truth.”

“Badly.”

“It takes practice.” I hesitated, but then damned caution to hell and took her hand in mine. Her fingers were ice-cold. I squeezed them. “I think Elain is so used to you defending her at every turn, no matter what, that she’s not ready to face the Nesta who not only defends her sister, but also her friends—whose world has widened, become richer. Elain had you to herself for a long, long while. I think she walked in here expecting all to be forgiven, for you to defend her with no questions asked, especially after we all stayed together last night. And when that didn’t happen, a lot more feelings about the matter came rushing out of her than she expected.”

Nesta sighed, heavy and weary. “I think I was in shock last night about what happened. And then this morning, I just . . . I know it’s not fair, to be concerned about Azriel’s feelings and not Elain’s, but after that initial shock wore off, there were so many things I had to say to her. I truly botched it, though.”

“Next time you two talk, mention it,” I advised. “It might make it easier if you both know that you’re trying your best, even when you fall short of finding the right words.”

Nesta stared down at our linked hands. Slowly, her fingers closed around mine.

“When did you get so wise?” she asked. “I know for a fact our mother never taught you this kind of thing.”

I snorted. No, she certainly hadn’t. I was keenly aware of that lack of love, of kindness, every time I held my son, every time I promised myself to do better, be better, than her. “It’s been an intense few years,” I hedged. I had a feeling we had another intense few years ahead. I took the carved rabbit Lucien had gifted Nyx out of my pocket. “Father taught me some of it, broken as he was,” I admitted.

I watched Nesta’s eyes trace the lines our father had lovingly and skillfully carved into the wood. This piece of him had been passed on to a grandson who would never know him. “He’d be very proud of you,” Nesta said softly.

My throat closed up, and I squeezed her fingers tightly.

Then Nesta lifted her gaze to mine, all trace of that silver fire gone. “I’ve been teaching myself to winnow,” she blurted.

I coughed, but squeezed her hand. “Is that how you got that far into the city yesterday when you went after Bryaxis?” I’d been astounded at my sister’s speed, had thought she’d merely sprinted there, assuming the swiftness was due to her Valkyrie training.