She looked out at the passing road as the horses pulled the carriage. The coachman stayed completely silent, not even turning around to check on us despite how beaten up we both looked. I wasn't complaining. I didn't want any unnecessary conversation right now. I was exhausted and needed a bit of rest. Plus, that bastard was a vulture, taking my last coins even though he knew I was desperate for a ride back to the city.
Mio's gaze drifted to the fingerless glove on my hand. "Ambly?"
I took a deep breath. "How did you know?"
"That's incredible," she muttered, her voice still cold but with a hint of awe. "Do you know how lucky you are?"
"How did you know?" I repeated.
"I like to read about the gods," she said. "A fingerless glove. Ironic."
"Why?"
"The Big War," she replied. "Ambly was tortured by Him. First, her fingers were chopped off. Then her hand."
