Odessa realized, as her pulse pounded in her temples and her vision seemed to haze over, narrowing until all she saw was the expressionless face of the man before her,
“Say that again,” she said slowly, when she was sure she was breathing, and her awareness of the room around them returned -- of the clink and clatter of dishes,
faint beneath the incomprehensible drone of many voices talking at once; the heavy air,
sour with the smells of sweat and beer and the tavern’s signature stew; and the stifling heat of the wool cloak she wore to hide her too-fine clothes.
Humphrey Mintz did not blink. “Our orders were to kill every man, woman, and child. And we carried them out.”
She ought to have wept, or shouted, or at least slammed a fist on the table. She ought to have been nauseated.
The bloody massacre at Kalekka -- the proof of Jowston’s utter depravity and barbarity -- had been carried out by the Empire itself. Such an obscenity demanded a reaction in kind.
But fury kept her frozen, barely breathing.
Read the rest via the link in the description!