Sometimes fear made you angry. Perhaps after years anger cooled, like a sword taken from a forge. Perhaps in the end you were left with something very cold and very sharp.
Frances HardingeIt was hopeless. She was flawless. She was a sunbeam. Mosca gave up and got on with hating her.
Frances HardingeIn Mosca’s experience, a ‘long story’ was always a short story someone did not want to tell.
Frances Hardinge