Of course it isn't lying. [ She said, as she pulled her hand away from Hayame's rump, the burn present in her flesh, but at least the wound would not seep more blood. It was sloppy work, she was no healer, but field medicine and the work of a chiurgeon she could do with her magic. Her lips, perfect and red, curled, into something of a sharp, broken sneer.

Akua looked out of place here. Not in the palace itself, of course, she looked as though she belonged there. However, she was out of place among these memories, an intruder and an invader that had interceded on Hayame's precious, and sharp memories. Times that she had not done the right thing, or that weight heavily on her conscience. Akua had that, and more, of course. To the price of hundreds of thousands of souls. ]

I was there too, you know. I'd never had anyone even offer, before... [ Akua's memories do not show in the mirror, as she has far too much control over her memories, but there's the flutter of dark wings in the distance, and the caw of crows. A herald of the First Under the Night -- the Warden -- significant only to her. ]

Where I am from, we have a saying. Iron Sharpens Iron. You show no weakness, you give nothing, and woe to those who show weakness and do so.

[ Then, she stepped closer to the mirror that whispered, looking into it curiously. ]

And then -- only after I'd done the truly unforgivable -- I was fed a poison I still crave to this day. It was precisely what you look down on, dear.