Cixi looked at the knife.
Cassian held it out to her across the small space between them, hilt first, the blade catching what was left of the gold coming through the window. He had said it lightly, almost as a kindness, that if Rafael ever stood close enough again, she was welcome to take one of his eyes out with it. As though that were a normal thing to offer a person. As though he had handed her a slice of cake.
She felt strange about it. Strange that the man beside her could suggest she pop a man's eye like a grape and look pleased while he did. But her curiosity was louder than her unease, and so she lifted her hand and took the knife, not to do anything with it, only to see it properly.
