Early Morning, Camelot Castle
Two months ago had not been a placid month in the ongoing verbal and emotional melee that constituted Branwen's relationship with her father. Last month, on the other hand, had been perfectly calm, inasmuch as Branwen's resulting complete absence from the castle could be said to be a calmness. So it was likely the first time anyone had seen her in a while, when Branwen breezed casually into the room and past Caity with her traditional greeting: she mussed her little sister's hair with clawed fingers and said "Hey, midget." (Branwen invariably insisted on conveniently overlooking the fact they they'd been precisely the same height for at least a year now.)
She did not seem to have come directly from her chambers, and wherever it was she'd been until a few minutes ago, it didn't seem to have been early morning there: Branwen was dressed in her customary out-and-about uniform of black leather jacket and Birkenstocks, black skinny jeans, and tank top in a dark enough gray that it might as well also have been black. A pair of sunglasses dangled from one of its arms folded into the neckline of her shirt. Her overall mildly tough-chick image was softened by the incongruous profusion of sparkling silver and diamonds she always kept spangled around her fingers and ears and neck. It wasn't really a fashion statement that made sense to anybody but herself, and she liked it that way.
"Hey, Key," she greeted her brother as well as she claimed her customary place at the edge of the room, flinging herself down onto one end of a long plush sofa, flumping her well-worn leather messenger bag (also, of course, black) down beside her. She exchanged a tiny flicker of eye contact with her father, but that was all. This had become the traditional routine between her and Corwin upon one of her returns to the castle: pretend that nothing had happened and that everything was normal. It was just easier for the whole family that way.
Quiet thereafter, she just listened to the conversation she'd arrived in the middle of, without adding anything for the moment. If past experience was any guide, nothing she could have said would be any help to Caitriona; the best thing she could do for her sister on the subject was just stay silent.