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opposite in so many ways of the daughter who
had given Manon the chance to speak, “to at
last rid us of a thorn in our sides.”
Had Petrah been punished for letting
Manon walk out of the Omega alive? Did the
Blueblood Heir still breathe? Cresseida had
once screamed in a mother’s terror and pain
when Petrah had nearly plunged to her death.
Did that love, so foreign and strange, still hold
true? Or had duty and ancient hatred won out?
The thought was enough to steel Manon’s
spine. “You came because we pose a threat.”
Because of the threat you pose to that
monster you call grandmother.
“You came,” Manon went on, Wind-
Cleaver rising a fraction, “because you are
afraid.”
Manon took a step beyond Glennis, her
sword lifting farther.
“You came,” Manon said, “because you