Edelgard
She inhaled sharply. "No, not your fault," Edelgard said.
Edelgard, daughter of Eirun, daughter of Tymros, son of Thorin, son of Lothrin, son of Lothbrok, son of Ratan, was like a chipped blade that insisted on damaging itself against things that could not be cut. Her sharpness could impose respect, and her toughess would let lesser blades break against her. But no matter how she polished, how she filled it in the gaps, the more she did the more scars she gained.
Sometimes, just sometimes, she felt she wanted for more, but had no name to give that impulse.
"I'm glad," she continued, breathing through all of her lungs. "That you're here."