[ Fjordans believe that the Grisha are weapons. Things, things that are unnatural, to be destroyed, or to be used. In Kerch, Nina could not walk the streets in a kefta -- despite the country's laws against slavery, 'unwilling indentures' happened every day - and she'd be a fine prize for any slaver, bound to work in one of the gangs, or one of the merchant houses, or worse. Ravka was the only place that offered Grisha any kind of safety, and it came at the price of their lives, at the cost of their service. It was still better than much Nina had seen, but she hadn't had to pretend very hard with the Conductor when she'd said she believed that Grisha should have a choice. That was what they were all fighting for, wasn't it? For a free Ravka, a Ravka where her kind could have a choice?

But Nina had seen enough of the world to know she'd been shaped into a tool before she'd had much choice about it. She was only comforted by the fact that she knew it was still her choice; as far as she could see, there was yet no better way. So, yes, Nina would believe it.

But none of her superiors have had the opportunity to think long and hard about what makes a person a person and not a thing in the hold of a Fjerdan ship, and even though Alina can't change who she is, and the responsibility that comes with it, Nina is determined not to treat her as a thing.

She groans a little. ] You're not the only one. I was just about to sit down to lunch before I woke up here. They're doing the best they can with the rations they have, it's clear, but it's no substitute.