Zelphra stood in silence as Fenrir prepared to leave, her mind racing.
She couldn't deny that a part of her still reeled from watching Monarch's Pressure ripped away from her body, as if it had only been on loan from the beginning.
But there were still things she needed to know, even if she feared the answers.
"What are you going to do next?"
She asked, her voice quiet, subdued.
Fenrir didn't slow his steps.
"You don't need to know."
She frowned at his back.
"Still don't trust me?"
He finally stopped walking, turning his head slightly to look at her from the corner of his eye.
"Should I?"
Zelphra sighed.
"I suppose not."
There was a pause. Neither of them said anything for several seconds, the tension between them thick and uncertain. Then, Fenrir spoke again, his tone cool.
"Where is your father?"
She hesitated.
"Zerg. Where is he being kept?"
Fenrir added.
Zelphra met his gaze.
"Do you expect me to betray my people, just like that?"
