Her surprise at the words a year comes out less in words, more in noise. A year. That doesn't make any damned sense. How can it have been a year, how is she supposed to believe—
His hand tightens on her shoulder and she finds herself bracing for something horrible. And then— well, it is, but it's an old sort of horrible, the kind of horrible that's long since had chance to turn into scar tissue.
For a moment, there's a swell of rage in her—how dare he joke like that, how dare he play his games with her in a moment like this, and with Henry's name—only, it dies almost as quickly as it begun. An intake of breath that usually marks the start of a one-sided shouting match is all that survives, replaced by a furrowed brow and a genuinely surprised:
"...you're not kidding, are you." No. Even Pierce wouldn't stoop that low. "You really didn't know about Colonel Blake."
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Her surprise at the words a year comes out less in words, more in noise. A year. That doesn't make any damned sense. How can it have been a year, how is she supposed to believe—
His hand tightens on her shoulder and she finds herself bracing for something horrible. And then— well, it is, but it's an old sort of horrible, the kind of horrible that's long since had chance to turn into scar tissue.
For a moment, there's a swell of rage in her—how dare he joke like that, how dare he play his games with her in a moment like this, and with Henry's name—only, it dies almost as quickly as it begun. An intake of breath that usually marks the start of a one-sided shouting match is all that survives, replaced by a furrowed brow and a genuinely surprised:
"...you're not kidding, are you." No. Even Pierce wouldn't stoop that low. "You really didn't know about Colonel Blake."