"Do you mind explaining yourself?" Nymeria said, walking toward us.
Just from her tone, I could tell she was mad, and why wouldn't she be? I had just punched the heck out of her little brother.
"I need to come up with a proper excuse," I thought inwardly. "Hmm, that could work."
I was about to begin my performance, but then Nymeria spoke again.
"Doran, I asked you a question!"
"Huh? She's talking to him, not me?" I murmured to myself.
"E... el... elder sister—cough... cough—this bastard... is deceiving you," Doran mumbled, grabbing his mask and pushing himself to his feet.
"Is that how you speak to elders, Doran?" Nymeria demanded. "Well, it does make sense since it's been a long time since I disciplined you."
Nymeria, the woman whose every movement, gesture, and posture were so graceful that she seemed like the reincarnation of dignity itself, had a very unfamiliar expression on her face that day.
