"All of us who fight here today do so with someone standing invisible behind us." Asterin's gold-flecked black eyes softened a bit. "Yes," was all Manon's Second said as her hand drifted to her abdomen. Not in memory of the hateful word branded there, of what had been done to her. In memory of the stillborn witchling who had been thrown by Manon's grandmother into the fire before Asterin had a chance to hold her. In memory of the hunter whom Asterin had loved, as no Ironteeth ever had loved a man, and had never gone back to, for shame and fear. The hunter who had never stopped waiting for her to return, even when he was an old man. For them, for the family she had lost, Manon knew her Second would fight today. So it might never happen again."