Her father had been one of the queen's guards, sworn to protect her at all costs.
It was an oath he'd taken to his grave.
Kagome never resented him for it, she barely remembered him, but Mama had told them stories about how fierce he was in battle, claiming the high ground with the rest of his crane brethren and cutting down any arrows aimed for Inukimi's head.
They'd fled the shiro during the uprising, her father's harsh whispers drowned out by cries of anguish following them as flames licked at their heels. He'd sent them to the cottage, a refuge from the chaos and bloodshed, and they'd huddled together as they waited for word that it was safe to go back.
It never came.
The cottage became their permanent home; Mama had said there were too many memories in the shiro, and the twins had been too young to argue. Kagome only wished there was someone around that had known her father better to fill in the blanks.
Had he been a compassionate soldier or a ruthless one? What had happened that night when so many had laid siege to the peaceful villagers surrounding the citadel? Had they simply wished to overthrow the royals, or had there been a more sinister plot at work?
As if sensing her distress, the beast slid his tongue along her cheek, catching the remaining tears as Kagome shook herself out of her reverie.