Spinning Silver

by Naomi Novik

But it was all the same choice, every time. The choice between the one death and all the little ones.

He was nearly my father’s age, and a man who lived almost entirely on the surface. But he wasn’t a fool, or cruel. And more to the point, I was reasonably certain he wasn’t going to try and devour my soul. My expectations for a husband had lowered.

But I had not known that I was strong enough to do any of those things until they were over and I had done them. I had to do the work first, not knowing.

A robber who steals a knife and cuts himself cannot cry out against the woman who kept it sharp.”