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December 2, 2024 - January 7, 2025
Nine Hibiscus let herself wish it hadn’t, wish it as savagely and miserably as she liked—
Nineteen Adze
Eight Antidote
He couldn’t remember when someone had hugged him last.
So sad. He was never allowed to have a childhood.
Five Agate’s
a shadow in a corridor resolving into the shadow of some Shard’s vision of three-ringed death—
a memory, he told himself, not real, not anymore.
Unguarded.
Cloudhookless.
Haha
He didn’t know if he’d ever go all the way back to just being in one place, being absolutely sure of who and where and what he was.
It was dizzying and awful, and he guessed he deserved it.
He should think / reward those who obeyed him on little more then his word.
Haha she could have poisoned hm and found a more tractable - less disruptive - heir.
You’re sure what you did was right. You had your reasons to do it, you made a plan, you executed that plan.
What did I tell you about successors?” “That you would rather an—um. An annoying one, than a dull one.”
Haha
Nineteen Adze, when she smiled, looked more dangerous than when she didn’t.
Haha
Eight Antidote thought about being a spy:
about keeping all his own desires as close as possible, unrevealed, even when asked directly.
he couldn’t just tell people what he wanted to have happened, they’d use it against him—
his ancestor-the-Emperor, and the machines from Lsel Station.
“I wanted the Teixcalaan you told me about,”
“Eighty times eighty years of peace, and no one deciding a whole planet is worth killing just to prove a point.
Ch. 16 p. 413, when she told him about “his ancestor-the-Emperor, and the machines from Lsel Station.”
“The war is ending right now, and that planetary system remains intact,”
“I expect you were part of that.
the Shard trick,”
“Pilot Four Crocus
It wasn’t really the sort of thing a person was pleased about, Eight Antidote guessed.
“Eleven Laurel didn’t want you to know,” he said instead.
Haha - little spy earns his tea.
“I can watch him much more closely inside the Ministry of War than I’d ever be able to if I let him out unsupervised into the Fleet.”
Haha Machiavellian.
Haha hopefully not by insurrection or coup.
Nine Hibiscus
I thought she might just be dangerous enough to stay alive.
Ch. 4 p. 91.
Remembered that, and couldn’t fall asleep at all.
Haha chilling.
the hydroponics deck of Weight for the Wheel
Mahit
Three Seagrass
she’d been convinced that the last thing Twenty Cicada would ever do would be to let Teixcalaan allow a species as wantonly and uncaringly destructive as the aliens had seemed, to exist.
Whose narrative was going around again? <Ring composition,
Call and response.
A nice way to live with an over-active imagination or talent.
“I mean. I have a flat. I have to—do the dishes. Probably talk to the Emperor Herself, too.
there’s got to be some system out there which needs an overqualified asekreta and has a halfway decent poetry salon—
Haha Mee too.
“Reed,”
the sound a person made when they were laughing but had meant to cry.
Darj Tarats
Twenty Cicada
All humans were one thing, to them: one sacrifice had, for now, bought a collective peace.
if she came back to Lsel Station while he and Aknel Amnardbat were in power, she would die under their hands.
Now we are exiles truly,
Yskandr would have followed Three Seagrass back to her flat with its undone dishes, its promise of poetry salons—
