Page 53 of Sky’s Edge

And since he was all I had, and all I was feeling was too much, not to mention, I was Catla Truelock, I let loose.

I advanced on him, watching his body lock and his head jerk in surprise at my aggressive movements.

I came rocking to a halt a few feet away, and with a straight arm, finger pointed at the door, I hissed, “That male is king, but he’s always been the future king, and even if that was somehow circumvented, which for a sad time we both know it was, he was still direct blood of a royal, and he holoed to school from a tiny study?”

Understanding infused Mangold’s features, but I was far from done.

“Six rooms!” My voice was rising. “Six farging rooms. No friends. No activities. No parks to play in. Did they take holidays?”

“No,” Mangold said.

I threw up both hands. “Okay, so this place is awesome, but to be stuck here all the time? No family trips to the beach. No weeks at Culpepper’s Land of Wonder. Am I believing this? No!”

“Miss Truelock⁠—”

“It’s Catla,” I snapped. “Or Cat. This is a family home. There is no protocol here.”

He pressed his lips together, clearly in an effort not to smile in the face of my fury.

I was not finding a thing to be happy about.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised Arnaud was such a piece of shit, since his father was the original,” I declared.

“We were happy here, Catla,” Mangold said in a conciliatory tone.

“I can tell. But you could have been more happy,” I shot back.

“It’s in the past,” he said softly. “There’s naught we can do about it, except make happier memories now and in the future.”

That shut me up.

Except to say, “I’m sorry I took that out on you. I just…got overwhelmed.”

“Understandable.”

I struggled to get a lock on it, and succeeded, mostly because I felt better having let some of it go, and asked, “Did you need me for something?”

“Well, I picked the short straw on this, but I’m sensing now I actually didn’t, when I share that I came to ask if you’d be…careful with Tanyn when you go visit the lynx.”

I comprehended this request immediately, and as such, nodded equally immediately.

And my tone was most modulated when I queried, “Has he been back since…?”

He shook his head sadly. “No.”

It was careful when I inquired, “Was it you who found…?”

I couldn’t finish.

He comprehended me and nodded his head, now mournfully. “Yes.”

“I’m so sorry, Mangold.”

“And yes. Agreed. This is a family home. So please call me Manny.”

“Manny,” I mumbled, once again feeling that weird feeling that I supposed was shy.

“She was an extraordinary woman,” Manny stated.