Her mind’s eye couldn't help but trace across the patches on the armour. How worn it was. How destroyed the body it protected must've been.

As she gently retrieved a robin from her hair, Alexandrie wondered how much of her own experience was a result of decisions Grandmère had made and put in motion.

She didn't want a golem. She wanted a Praetorian.

She pitied the Edgewater children. Watching the creation sway, she understood what was strange:Lucas had spent so long calling her sheltered. It hurt at the time: he had treated her as though he was full of worldly wisdom she could only dream of possessing. And yet it wasn't that she was sheltered. It was that she was loved.

Alexandrie did not believe in coincidences. Not any more. She didn't think her letters had been intercepted - but she was also self-aware enough to know that she didn’t want to stop sending letters home.