I wanted to say to her, It’s not a game; it’s in deadly earnest. But Sidonie knew. I didn’t need to hear her say it. I saw her, saw all of her. The raised chin and the firm, demanding brows, at odds with the delicate bones of her face. All the pride and determination, all the rising fury and suspicion, terror and vulnerability. A measure of trust I hadn’t earned. Fault-lines created through cruel artifice. It made my heart ache and my throat tighten. I loved her.
