[center][h3]Aymiria Unalim[/h3]
[sub]Bride of Zakroti Unalim [@darkwolf687] and sister-bride to Aurora Liesma [@WeepingLiberty][/sub][/center]

Lilac eyes had a most peculiar effect of seeming to ice over as Miry stared up at Aurora, gone a bit slack jawed by her.... brash idiocy, throwing hatred right and left and fury indiscriminately, as though disrespect and blind pursuit of misconception somehow earned her their favor. She steeled herself, barely flinching at the "sniveling child" comment, a thousand retorts on her lips that died as Zak stepped closer, speaking calmly against the girl's harsh words, his own fire contained (though barely, at first) within eloquent prose that she could suddenly barely keep coherent in her mind.

Her heart lurched as the memories returned in an unbidden flood, her sister's battered, tortured body, the desperate fear in her eyes and the panic in her breathless words and quaking grasp at the looming shadow in the door-

The blood everywhere, the grief and shock- the wall of too-hard air and steam that she herself had fallen into, a fox caught in her own trap under the weight of disbelief. The minor explosion of pressurized air and steam, designed a subtle trap by both sisters to keep Aery's husband from the room, instead went off as Miry too lost all focus, shredding clothing and skin indiscriminately from the tiny water gem's back and shoulders and all but flinging her to the floor, face-down into a pool of her sister's- and sister-bride's- blood...

She forced herself out of the thought, a barely audible gasp escaping her as she forced her eyes wide, tiny bits of ice crackling and tinkling off of her face as she struggled to open her eyes through the crystals that had formed with the instinctively-welling tears. Her hands clenched into shaking fists as she sized up the situation once more, feeling the fool for letting the memories seize her unbidden like that. The scars on her back- tiny, barely-visible scars like a million papercuts- were tingling and stinging as they ever did when she thought of it, but she fought against it, standing stock-still as she tried to take stock of the situation and catch up with what had been said. Had Zak managed to put out, or at least contain, the flames for once?

Zak had turned so his sword was angled slightly away from Aurora, his body tense and seeming to guard the hilt somewhat. No doubt he was reliving what had happened the last time one of the brides had gotten a blade... 

Miry stepped up on that side, stepping perhaps a bit closer to Aurora than need be, and schooled her face into the blankest, softest expression she could as she stepped closer, regarding the other girl as evenly as possible (considering her eyes only came up to about the base of the other girl's ribs.) Her sadness was barely concealed in her gaze as she murmured, scarcely above a whisper, "Peace, child of Pyrus. You are not the only one to have lost her sister that night. You are not the one who still bears scars of it. So- Trust. The matter is not what you think it is." 

It must have been a strange sight, the frost still crackling off her face, eyes vaguely unfocused and full of unspoken words she wished she had time to say. But even what she had just said was perhaps too much- she might have just provoked yet another tongue-lashing, or even physical violence. Her eyes flicked back to Zak and she finally bowed her head again, murmuring an apology to him as she stepped back a pace behind him once more and resumed her submissive posture, arms moving to guard her lower midsection out of instinct.