For Walther. For Greta. For all the dreams that were gone. The stealer of dreams would steal no more, even if it meant killing the Komizar myself. My own mother may have betrayed me by suppressing my gift, but she was right about one thing. I am a soldier in my father’s army. I glanced up at Kaden riding beside me. Maybe now it was I who would become the assassin.
-Mary E. Pearson
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