Mesec’s nerves, his future, were balanced on the edge of a blade and it felt as though if he breathed too deeply it would shift him one way or the other. It all depended on Megaera’s reaction. Even if she wasn’t the Sultana, he would either be an outcast or a member of the Throat depending on her answer to his question. Having a home meant so much to him but he couldn’t make one out of somewhere that he caused discomfort, where he could not earn trust among his fellow herd mates. He truly expected to be chased out of here and he believed that (even in a small way) he deserved it. Perhaps they were right to doubt him, what if the blood of the moon ran thick in him and he betrayed them all later? His mother was crafty, vengeful, had he been born to be a tool through which she could act in Helovia? But he would drive himself insane worrying about that, especially when he had more tangible things to worry about in the meantime.  

He felt nervous, more nervous than he had been in a long time, and was so concentrated that he forgot to breathe - so it came out in a rush when she started her answer with that ‘no’. Surprise and relief course through him at Megaera’s change in manner, sun after the storm. She softened before his eyes, both her voice her voice and her body, and he was grieved to hear how dark her beginnings in Helovia had been - what had driven her here. He could not imagine what it must have been like for her to kill her own father, no matter how terrible he had been, and try to build a life afterwards.

A smile began to grow when she stretched out her wing and he accepted the touch on his shoulder gratefully. She was asking him to forgive her and for Mesec, there was no doubt in his mind. “Of course. I cannot fault you for wanting to protect your family. Perhaps, one day, I’ll be lucky enough to earn myself a spot in it.” Where they had been subdued and sad moments ago, the smile in his silver eyes grew to a soft and genuine smile. As of yet, he did not feel a part of the family but he could not fault anyone except himself. Always in the shadows, always on the sidelines, Mesec had not been making much of an effort. Something that he intended to change now that he was given the chance to. He had fallen off the knife blade but he wanted to prove to Megaera, to the herd, that it wasn’t a mistake to allow him to be a part of this herd.

He dipped his head then, not having lost any respect for her. In fact, he had even gained more - it showed a lot about her, he thought, how she had been willing to change her attitude - how she could admit when she thought she was wrong. Mesec might harbour his own doubts about himself but he could not deny the relief he felt at her words.  “It’s an honour to call you my Sultana.”