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((The Mon/Wen/Fri Double -- page 2 of 2))
It was the height of youthful folly. Understandable, perhaps, if one were to characterize the emotions that had motivated her actions as those of the unwise or the unlearnt, but she dared not even give herself that meagerest easing of her conscience.

In her anger, in her disappointment, in her yearning to become a different person, she had been unfaithful to her husband.

And the result of that was Ibai. An aberration. A thing worthy of only death.

In truth, after that first incident with the dead cat, when it became clear that Parson Miles' warning had been the truth, she might have gone through with the killing of her only child if not for Ismael--if he hadn’t been the greatest man she had ever known.

And to think. It had worked.

Ismael had actually succeeded in changing Ibai’s nature.

She took no credit in that for herself. She knew it beyond doubt--that had all been her husband’s doing. Someone as pathetic as her could not have been of any use to anyone. It was only too obvious where the goodness in Ibai had truly come from, even if he didn't have Ismael's blood in him.

Just thinking about it now made her want to start crying again. She might’ve allowed herself to, if she were alone, but her reaper, Sentsia, was present. And talking to her. As usual.

Nere was hardly listening, though. The reaper’s moral pontifications and words of encouragement were without end.

Even though Sentsia knew the truth, too. The one person who should have been able to genuinely understand how worthless she was--but Sentsia didn’t. Even her own reaper was too good for her, Nere knew.

How cruel Lhutwë was. To have her grow to love her family so much after betraying them so utterly, after having thought herself above them for so long.