“I think I can manage,” Glokta hissed, tongue pressed into his empty gums, arms trembling as he hauled himself out of the bed and onto the chair beside it. His grotesque, toeless left leg twitched to itself, still beyond his control. He glared down at it with a burning hatred. Fucking horrible thing. Revolting, useless lump of flesh. Why didn’t they just cut you off? Why don’t I still? But he knew why not. With his leg still on he could at least pretend to be half a man. He punched his withered thigh, then immediately regretted it. Stupid, stupid. The pain crept up his back, a little more
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