Irina’s smile was lovely. Alistair’s words amused her. “We met via a soulmate tie. Months later, we ran into each other again. It resulted in the children.” Irina’s eyes darted around. “He’s not so bad. Vengeful, temperamental-yes, but he can be rather kind.” She tilted her head. “Perhaps, I could do better. But for a lonely, newly crowned queen, he was quite alright. And when the children went with me to visit him, he was very good to them.” She sighed. “Full disclosure, that’s where Kàra’s gone-to Tarben. She’s more of a Dane than a royal.” Irina laughed. “I miss her.” The admission was soft, mournful. Irina was happy that Kàra was where she wanted to be; her daughter deserved that much. But it was still tough. And Pyro. . . . Irina had felt herself slipping away these past months. She wasn’t as cold as she used to be, as unforgiving. She wasn’t manipulative, anymore. She was a queen. Yes. But she was a maternal, mournful queen. She always pined for a Dane daughter, a disappeared son. And she was the leader of a pack that was small and headed straight for a war. "The truth takes time." IrinaAlphess of Nightingale - Acquaintance of Beartooth - Mother of Rambaldi, Marigold, Pyro, Kruam, & Kára - Nadia
