Kestrel moved her wrist quickly, and the bracelet on her arm changed into a small but super sharp dagger.
She held the black and white dagger upside down.
The blade sparkled for a second. A chopped-off white tendril hit the ground, splashing her face with red blood.
It hurt like crazy to cut off her own psychic incarnation, but Kestrel did it without even frowning. The cut-off piece twitched on the floor; she didn't even give it a second look.
She even licked her own blood off her face and grinned.
"So, I want that," she said, still smiling, her face covered in blood. "If you won't give me something this small, then why are we talking about me being your heir and all this Empire and throne stuff? Are you just tricking me?"
The Queen couldn't figure out what Kestrel was thinking, which made her uneasy. For hundreds of years, she had used her psychic powers to know what people were really thinking.