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Kiera thought she might well be the person who knew Daenora best. Maybe once she had been better understood, but with her siblings dead Daenora always seemed on the outside of things. Grieving in the silent way of one whose loss was too great to voice. They were akin in that. So she understood some of what Daenora felt, though she would hardly pretend to know it all. Daenora trusted her enough to whisper secrets to her, curled close in the dark. She gave hers in return, letting her fears spill out from her lips. She loved their whispered exchanges.