I might have told her it wasn’t actually me, that while my magic still beat a discordant war march in my chest and my nier still lashed about beneath my fragile control, the burst of power that broke the glass wasn’t mine. It tasted too much of snowstorms and lightning on the beach. “Forgive me, but you insulted me and mine first. By right, I am excused from any errant attacks my magic might make without my consent.” Remy’s head snapped around as soon as I spoke, and I begged her silently not to say anything. If Seraphine knew Remy was the one to break the glasses, any and all connection with
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