We are all of us, gods and mortals, made up of many pieces, some of them broken, some of them scarred, but none of them the total sum of who we are.

The maids in my village talked of falling in love with a man at first sight. That has always seemed naught but foolishness to me. Until I enter Sister Serafina's workshop. It is unlike anything I have ever seen, full of strange sights and smells, and I tumble headlong into love.

Are men truly such idiots that they cannot resist two orbs of flesh?

... then he offers me his arm. As I take it, I wonder what folly decreed that women cannot walk unassisted.

There is no shame in scars, Ismae.

... while I am Death's daughter and walk in His dark shadow, surely the darkness can give way to light sometimes.

You are not my nursemaid. Remember, I am rescuing you.