"Ayla?" I asked.
She looked up. "I hope I didn't wake you."
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"I'm cleaning the floor."
"No, no, no," I groaned. "You don't need to do that. We'll get it."
She simply got back to scrubbing, talking while she worked. "I found vinegar in the pantry. That will get the blood out of the wood. I hope it doesn't hurt the polish, though, but if it does, I can fix it."
"That's not your job, Ayla," I soothed.
But she threw the brush into her bucket of water - or vinegar, from the smell that wafted out - with enough force I half expected her ring to fly off. "I am not going to let them ruin this house!" she snapped. "They came in here to kill a little boy, and I don't want any hint of them left, okay? I'm going to get the blood out, and then I'll make the floors shine again, because they can't have this place!"
"Hey..."
She simply thrust her arm into the bucket to grab the brush and started scrubbing again. "I don't have a job. I don't have a husband to care for. None of you ask me for anything hard. I get to read all day long while everyone else takes care of me, but I can do this. I can erase the Moles from inside this house!"
"Okay," I relented, nodding to show I heard her. "But have you eaten anything?"
Her hands paused. "I was going to let the floor in the kitchen dry first."
"Because you already cleaned the kitchen," I realized. "But what about the cut on your side?"
"I'm being careful," she promised. "If I don't pull it, then using my arms is okay. It will heal in five to seven days, and then I can cut the suture away and I'll be fine."
"Ayla, are you a nurse?" I asked, waiting for her to say no so I could remind her she should obey their directions.
She simply shook her head. "In the compound, people aren't doctors or nurses anymore. Especially not women! We're not good enough for that, but they still have us heal the wounds from hunting. Wounds the stupid men survived. And I helped! How many lives did I save because I liked finally being in charge? How many of those men came back here and killed children?"
"It's not your fault," I assured her.
"It's theirs!" she huffed. "Theirs for not telling us there were types of meat. Theirs for lying to us and saying it was 'righteous.' Theirs! And I healed them. I fixed them. I made Gideon better so he could hurt Meri over and over, but if I'd just pulled the arrow from his liver instead of pushing it through, he would've died. That four-sided arrowhead would've torn the organ apart and he would've died slowly!"
So I crouched down before her. "Asshole," I said.
Her hands paused. "Huh?"
"It's a word that means someone who is mean, cruel, or bothersome. It's profanity, Ayla. It literally translates to where you poop. An anus."
"Okay..."
"Those men were assholes," I said. "Try it."
"They're all assholes," she muttered.
"Good girl," I praised. "And while that word is not polite to say in public or around children, it feels good to use, so use it."
Her teeth immediately clamped down on her lower lip and those beautiful blue eyes lifted to mine. "And I'm allowed to say that, Kanik?"
"Mhm," I assured her. "See, you're not a Mole anymore. You're a refugee now, and you're learning how to fit into our Dragon culture. We cuss. Some call it cursing. That means using profanity to make it clear what you mean sometimes."
"Not just men?"
I shook my head. "Nope. Only brave people."
Her shoulders slumped a little. "Oh. I'm not brave."
"But you are," I countered. "You killed men last night, Ayla, and that was very brave. You saved Tamin, and that was even more brave. You may have been scared, but you still did what needed to be done."
"But - " she tried.
My chuckle cut her off. "Bravery isn't the absence of fear. It's being honorable enough to act even though you're terrified. Bravery is being strong enough to push through it - and you did. That means you're brave, Ayla."
A little smile touched her lips. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," I agreed, reaching out to offer her a hand. "And maybe you can take a break from that for a moment? I want to talk to you about something."
She nodded but ignored my hand. "I'm covered in vinegar," she pointed out before pushing to her feet.
"And you're wearing the same dress as last night?" I asked even as I backed up the hall, aiming for the living room.
"I didn't want to ruin another," she explained. "This one is already cut, and I bled all over it. I can probably mend the side, and I'll get the blood out, but that means I already need to wash it."
"Yeah," I breathed, gesturing for her to take a chair as I claimed the other. "Ayla, you can just throw it away."
"I only have four," she admitted.
