[ Her first sip scorches her throat on its way down, but the burn of it pales to the wildfire kindling beneath her skin. The warmth that blooms brighter, spreading to her collarbone like a flame, can easily be blamed on firelight and nothing else — but she knows better, knows it's a lie she tells herself.

I was miserable the entire time we were apart shouldn't be as pleasing to the ear as it is. She downs her next taste with the desperate need to distract them both from it, as if brandy can slaughter the sudden pounding in her chest.

In reality, it only manages to melt away the almond cake on her tongue, but never let it be said an attempt wasn't made. ]

Delighting in your misery does make me feel better. I'd say that more than makes up for it.

[ His company, truly, is all that's required to spread salve over that wound. Better, she wants to tell him, than any dramatic ploy he might scheme up. She draws her finger over the lip of her glass, instead, pensively circling its rim. ]

I don't think there would be much left to show you, after — [ After the Darkling's calculated attacks, a shadow feasting off of her worst fears in order to bring them to life. Her lips press tightly together. ] — everything. What I remembered is ruined, and even if it wasn't, Keramizin was a horrible place for children to grow up.

[ If she could grant Mal another life — if she could grant children as lost as them — greater than drafty orphanages and colder guardians, she would. But life had dealt them that hand, had brought them together in that way, had brought her here to this very moment; it's difficult to regret that. ]