" Harrow,' said Gideon, and her voice caught. 'Harrow, I'm so bloody sorry.'
Harrow's eyes snapped wide open. The whites blazed like plasma. The black rings were blacker than the bottom of Drearburh. She waded through the water, snatched Gideon's wet shirt in her fists, and shook her with more violence than Gideon had ever thought her muscularly capable of. Her face was livid in its hate: her loathing was a mortar, it was combustion.
'You apologize to me?' she bellowed. ' You apologize to me now? You say that you're sorry when I have spent my life destroying you? "
― Tamsyn Muir , Gideon the Ninth (The Locked Tomb, #1)