Why are you telling me this now? You were at that meeting, she wrote. You were practically in charge of that meeting! You could have objected! But this is a conversation you’re having with yourself, Lady Queen, Giddon said. I’m not actually here, am I? I’m not the one objecting. And Giddon faded away. Bitterblue was left with herself again, holding her strange letter to the fire, wound up in too many different kinds of confusion.
This almost felt like a hallucination
