Her voice catches. She stares at her adept in mixed sorrow and wonder and finds within herself a well of sympathy burrowing deeper than the darkest and dankest levels of Drearburh.
"Harrow, I'm sorry." As it had before, memory provides new context: Harrow, bored and spiteful becomes Harrow, saddled with an impossible guilt. Harrow hating her for merely existing becomes Harrow hating herself and lashing out at Gideon as the only alternative. Harrow, imperious and aloof, becomes Harrow, tormented and alone. "I'm so sorry."
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Date: 2020-10-17 11:59 pm (UTC)Her voice catches. She stares at her adept in mixed sorrow and wonder and finds within herself a well of sympathy burrowing deeper than the darkest and dankest levels of Drearburh.
"Harrow, I'm sorry." As it had before, memory provides new context: Harrow, bored and spiteful becomes Harrow, saddled with an impossible guilt. Harrow hating her for merely existing becomes Harrow hating herself and lashing out at Gideon as the only alternative. Harrow, imperious and aloof, becomes Harrow, tormented and alone. "I'm so sorry."