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Soon the shuttle is out of sight I sit on one of the couches and sip chilled wine With Kalindora’s revelations, s of oaths, fidelity, and history that conspired to strangle me are cut I know the rules now, Grandmother

There are none

At last, I feel free

Here in the afterreat horizon of opportunity The Free Legions are broken Darrow is in flight Luna is run by a madman Mars trampled by Obsidians Earth fallen to the Rim and the Society

That sense of insignificance and guilt I permitted Cassius to instill within me has not disappeared, but remains in the back of my mind as a reminder of the fate one can accept if he lets the o, Cassius’sas my protector, Kalindora’s last testament—all of it rooted in soo sacrificed for one reason or another

The saend in blood The sa his people at their e that honor was about personal sacrifice

My grand person I ever ht there was no place for honor in the world I cannot agree completely It was her cruelty that chipped away at the foundation of her power and poisoned all who served her

It is Atalantia’s cruelty which makes me prey to people like her Is it honorable to kill her for my mother? Honorable to thrust us into civil war? Honorable to fulfill e to subs night after night so that Gold ht have unity?

I think not

I think, as with all things, honor is best appreciated in moderation As is cruelty

After all, there is no crime with a court

The whine of gravBoots disturbs ination He is real, and dreadful His Martian armor radiates heat in the sun until he steps into the cool provided by the pulseBubble I have prepared He looks over the table from beneath the horns of his helm

“A raced this wasted toh his helmet “Libations of Elysian red, Terran Bordeaux, Mercurian soletto With gustatio of raw oysters, wine-steamed sow’s udders, candied pecans, olives, azeroles, and medlars and jucellum A mensae priarlic venison, honey-drizzled wild boar stuffed with dried figs, garum sauce, and, do mine eyes deceive me?”

His giant helmet inspects the centerpiece

“A hare decorated with the wings of a peacock—no, ’tis but a noble pegasus! And, not to be forgotten, a mensae secundae of Lunese iced frizeé, tactun, chocolate pecans, and white pudding”