"You’re going to be okay, I promise." // "He was really angry." // "You’re really getting on my nerves."
"You’re going to be okay, I promise."
Chrysandra looked over at her, her hands still shaking slightly. "Why did you..." she shook her head, trying to think. "You didn't have to..." She'd stopped them. She'd stepped in and saved her, and for the life of her she couldn't figure out why. Why she didn't assume she was just like the rest of her peers, just like her father, just like her grandmother. For all Alice knew, Chrysandra was a murderer, too, but she'd still stood up for her. "Thank you," she said softly.
"He was really angry."
"He has every right to be," Chrysandra whispered. "My father killed his brother." She'd known about that for years. Her father had bragged about it afterwards, about his victory. She didn't hold it against the boy for hating her. He had every right to hate her. Sometimes she wished that people wouldn't look at her and see the sins of her father, but what had she done to stop him? Nothing. Nothing at all.
"You’re really getting on my nerves."
"I'm sorry," Chrysandra said quickly. "I'm... I'm sorry." She fell silent immediately, going still. She didn't want to be a bother. That was the last thing she wanted. She'd spent her entire life learning how to disappear, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. She was rather certain that all people wanted from her was someone to be a pretty decoration and occasionally serve tea. She needed to stop stepping out of line.
