[ Her mouth twitches wordlessly, like she stays her tongue in a way she might not once have. She takes a long drink, not for the taste of it or the effect but for the want of something to do. ]

He wasn't a good one, if that's what you mean.

[ Father. She hisses out low and solid, ] I was nothing more than a tool and he'd tell you I wasn't a good one. That he tried perfecting me for my benefit.

[ There is no mirth in her think bladed smile. ]
It was nothing more than torture.