Like Kira, Harlow's hair was a deep burgundy red. A color their family line was infamous for.
Their features carried a similar stamp, pointing to a shared heritage even without the signpost of their coloring.
Their eyes were where things diverged; Kira's a grayish purple that were inherited from her mother's side of the family. Depending on the light and her mood, they could appear more purple or closer to the gray of those storm clouds outside. Harlow's were the golden color of a raptor. And like that bird, they held a piercing intensity that always seemed to see right through her.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Harlow asked.
There was a sense of disconnection as she faced her uncle. His expression familiar and alien at the same time. It felt like she should be able to understand the emotions on his face, but for some reason everything felt out of sync. Like a barely heard melody that was missing the important notes.
Kira rubbed her chest, the pang there taking her off guard. "You said the emperor is a reasonable man. I'm choosing to believe those words."
Harlow caught the small movement, his shoulders rising and falling as he took a deep breath. "This situation is complicated. There's no guarantee he will agree to your proposal."
"He will."
Even if Kira had to use force to accomplish her objective.
Harlow schooled his features, but not before Kira caught the faint note of concern there.
He didn't agree with her course of action. Not entirely anyway. He thought she was being reckless. True, but Kira didn't know how to be any other way right now.
"Very well. If this is your wish," Harlow said, the sense of defeat in his voice puncturing the impenetrable shell she'd wrapped around herself. The wall that had been there since she'd awoken from her fugue state three days ago. The tiny pinprick it opened allowed her to push back the tide of numbness. Just a bit. Enough for his earlier expression to make sense.
Sorrow and regret. That's what she'd seen. How had she missed that?
"Uncle," Kira managed.
Her voice was faint. Almost inaudible but it spurred her to latch onto her connection with him. She used it to drag herself out of the morass she'd fallen into in the brief span of time she'd spent staring out the window.
How easy it had been to get lost. To descend into a state where the outside world didn't seem to matter.
It was a temporary reprieve from the grief that weighed on her. More likely to backfire than help.
Yes, the numbness offered a respite from the pain and guilt, but it also deadened her perception. It made it so she couldn't remember what was important. The people around her. Not just Jin and Elena but her uncle and all the others she'd need to get through this.
The funny part was that this wasn't her first time down this road. The last time she'd broken herself. Almost irreparably.
Harlow set a hand on her arm, the physical touch bolstering her. "I feel like I've failed you. I promised she'd be safe."
"We all failed that day. Not just you."
Her failure was what hurt the most. The innocent would pay the price for her ineptitude. That knowledge ate at her, but she wouldn't let it destroy her. Not again.
"That's why we're here, though, isn't it?" she asked, her gaze steady. "To correct our oversight."
By any means necessary.
"Just promise me one thing," Harlow said, pain on his face. "You'll come back at the end of this. To your House."
Kira didn't like making promises she couldn't keep. With where she was going and what she planned to do, there was no such thing as certainty. She was fully aware she might die in this endeavor.
Harlow was a man Kira respected. Moreover, he was family. One of only two blood relatives she knew of.
Lying, even as a way to give him hope, felt wrong.
"Don't worry so, Uncle. I've just started to live again. I won't jeopardize what I've gained."
Unless there was really no other alternative.
Harlow was no fool. He didn't need to hear that last part to understand that was where her head was at.
"Don't forget, niece. You're of Roake now. Call for us and we will answer."
His offer was a kindness. One she didn't know if she'd be able to bring herself to take advantage of.
"Do you ever fear your house may resent you for allowing me to drag them into my vendetta?"
It was what she was afraid of. That they'd come to hate her for the loss of lives. Tuann lived for a long time. Thousands of years if something didn't forcefully end their life. But they procreated extremely slowly. A single disastrous battle could wreak havoc on a House, taking centuries to recover from.