Gu Xiang has never felt her fury burn this hot before--she's faced down murderers and cannibals, been a child among criminals who would not hesitate to hurt a child, and she has become hardened by their company. If you let yourself grow sensitive to every injustice, you will only ever be sensitive. Better to grow a thick skin, a thick face. Better to be calm and cocky and competent, so that the worst people will think twice about trying their luck with you.

All of this means that she has no defenses against the sudden avalanche of rage she feels when she sees Esther hovering next to her little sign. It's not enough that she's kissing Gaheris! It's not enough that she's cooking with him! Now she's writing poetry, too????

She sees white. Her heart feels as though it will pound out of her chest. Her fists clench so hard that blood trickles from her palms where her nails bite into flesh.

Gu Xiang leaps the banister of the stairwell, fluttering down before Esther in a whirl of purple skirts. "Choose a weapon," she says, hand on the hilt of her whip sword. "Because if you're going to keep trying to replace me, let's just fight to the death and get this over with."