" Gideon looked down at her necromancer. She had the heavy-lidded expression of someone who was concentrating in the knowledge that once they stopped concentrating, they would fall abruptly asleep. Harrow had gone unconscious once before: Gideon knew that the second time she let Harrow go under, there would probably not be any awakening. Harrow reached up - her hand was trembling - and tapped Gideon on the cheek.
'Nav,' she said, 'have you really forgiven me?'
Confirmed. They were all going to eat it.
'Of course I have, you bozo.'
'I don't deserve it.'
'Maybe not,' said Gideon, 'but that doesn't stop me forgiving you. Harrow - '
'Yes?'
'You know I don't give a damn about the Locked Tomb, right? You know I only care about you,' she said in a brokenhearted rush. She didn't know what she was trying to say, only that she had to say it now. With a bad, juddering noise, a tentacle had started to pound their splintering shelter again: WHAM. 'I'm no good at this duty thing. I'm just me. I can't do this without you. "

― Tamsyn Muir , Gideon the Ninth (The Locked Tomb, #1)