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“Hope is a younger girl’s game, and you find more comfort in it than I do.”
I knew what it was like to trace a quickly fading memory in my mind, to watch it fade with every remembering until it was nothing but a feeling, a well-worn groove you could walk but not recall.
The crown of Dihya had been stripped from me, my face changed, my body broken. But I was not a slave and I was not a spare. I was my mother’s daughter, and I would survive and endure. I would find my way back home.
Even your happiness is rebellion.”
“Happiness may be rebellion, but it won’t win the war.”
“Only a fool would hope to be raised to the Ziyaana. A cage is a cage even if gilded. Even if it softens my hands.”
“A princess and a prophetess can do incredible things. We can bring justice to millions. We can do what ordinary people cannot.”
Hope. Hard won, soaked in blood, a hope that burned as much as it lit her way.
“An empty belly makes one mercenary, I suppose.”
Did she feel it—was a war being fought in her blood every time she looked at me?
Better death than slavery.
