A moment of empathy

Eularia listened to the boy, pausing in her movements as he asked a question. I'm the wrong person to ask, Julian. The First Talon tasked me with the death of Francesco Campana thirty-ish years ago. Her voice was level, as she studied the boy. She wasn't sure what face she needed to wear. But she had lost people, she could be of some use.

Grieved Queen?

Satisified Crow?

What face was the truth? Anyone who had seen how the Queen and late King interacted, would know that even the public questioned whether she loved him. Obviously, he'd been head over heels for her. But Eularia had brushed him off, very little shows of affection in public. The only ones who knew that she truly loved her husband were their children.

She'd play the part of the Crow and shove her true grief and worry down.

I grieve for the public, so that they can deny they have a monster for a Queen. But my loyalty to the Crows, to my duty, to the task assigned, always came first. She turned to face the young man.

But, true grief... the loss of a loved one, it fades with time. If you let it. She mused, leaning against a bookshelf. But you have to learn to be like a duck, and let the grief roll off of your back. Otherwise, you'll blame yourself, resent yourself... and you cannot let it go.