Misrule

But I still hate him.

She was only using me. Some fragile, tender part of me dies.

Damn that ship’s boy

Perhaps, Mortania suggests, you did not.

Sometimes people are not who we think they are.

“And, Nimara.” She nudges my chin so that our eyes meet. Hers carry a silver sheen in the night. “You are not a monster.”

“It was not real,” Aelfdene’s vile words lodge themselves into my very soul.

“I hate you,” Aurora whispers. It steals my breath. “I hate what you’ve become. You’re not Alyce anymore. And I…” She swallows. “I wish I was still asleep.”

“I’m not worried,” she replies. “The worst thing that ever could have happened to me already has happened. Why should I fear anything else?”

“It was not real