As far as season penultimate episodes go, “The Unsea” is easily on my list of favorites. It isn’t flawless by any means, but it’s a magical showcase of vulnerability while focusing on the importance of freedom. It’s the episode that sets almost every dynamic up remarkably while still leaving a lot of room to dissect the grey areas that play into the complexities of these characters.
There’s never inherently good or evil in shows within this genre, which make the analytical scope of working through them so large and inviting, it’s a thrill for me. And surprisingly, in an episode that’s so intense, there are still moments with humor that balance the emotional beats.
As always, remember that when it comes to the Shadow and Bone trilogy, my knowledge is based entirely on the TV series whereas with The Crows, I’m attentively versed with the duology.
The reason this show works so well is largely due to what the cast is bringing to the table, and I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again, I don’t know if I’d care about this story if it weren’t for each of the performances layering their characters as they have. Sometimes an episode leaving us with more questions than answers is a bad thing, but other times, the moral ambiguity is the riveting detail that’s going to keep us coming back for more. Where in some cases the answer seems clear, in others, it really is open to vast interpretation.
And with this particular episode, we’re breaking things up differently than we have with the others.
The Darkling | The Mortal | The Motive in “The Unsea”
“The Unsea” features a few scenes I’d actually like to unsee because while this series has blessed us with some pretty sights, it also gave us one of the most bizarre wigs I’ve ever been subjected to. I have a lot of questions about what The Darkling was going through to decide that yes, this is an excellent hairstyle I’m rocking—fear me, love me, look at me. I don’t know, I really don’t. Maybe there weren’t any mirrors back then, but you’d think Luda would’ve loved him enough to say, hey babe, that hair you’ve got going on, I’m not feeling it. I get she’s a Healer and not a Tailor, but they could’ve gotten creative. I’m just saying.
In the words of the absolute legend that is Jake Peralta: “cool motive, still murder,” because that’s ultimately what The Darkling’s arc in “The Unsea” represents. We get insight to his motives and we see his heart, entirely bare right before us, in more than one instant that showcases that maybe, possibly, if there were a redemption, this would be a fascinating story. Regardless, “The Unsea” and its flashback takes us into the headspace of an eternal and an immortal, it reveals the fact that unlike other fantasy genres, there is no solution here. Darkling isn’t a vampire, he can’t just turn Luda into an immortal Grisha and they can’t live happily ever after.
Grisha may be powerful but they are still susceptible to death.
And thus, when the king’s army kills her right before his eyes, he strikes—turning them into his own, using his powers not for the sake of all Grisha, but for one person. We say this again: cool motive, still murder. But this is the thing that makes The Darkling so fascinating to analyze. He’s driven by love and we see this because Barnes shows us, painfully and clearly when he cries out in pain. In a scene that could’ve felt as though it was overselling the moment—the situation instead worked because from the beginning, Barnes has made it clear that The Darkling genuinely believes in what he sets out to conquer. That means that in this moment, he genuinely believes that he is robbing Ravka from horrible murderous men who’ll take from them.
It also poses a riveting question, which is: how much control does he have and how much of The Fold was truly intentional? We know what Baghra believes and stands on her belief. We know that his motives aren’t always clear, but it forces us to wonder because what we can’t deny is vulnerability and the power of grief. No two people grieve the same way and grief sometimes forces people to do terrible things. Does it make it right? Absolutely not, but it makes it understandable to say the least.
It tells us with convincing layers that if nothing else, The Darkling’s heart at that moment wasn’t too far gone from return. It tells us that somewhere far and deep beyond the eternal is in fact, a man who’s known heartache. It especially tells us that perhaps he could’ve gotten out of it if he’d chosen to. But if we don’t get there, ugly wig aside, it touches on the fact that there are choices that were made and those choices need to be addressed head on.
If we take into account performances because Ben Barnes insists on humanizing the character, all we need to really focus on to understand the depth of his adoration is, the scene where Luda finally passes, and his only reply is “just mortal.” Two words, but a plethora of meaning because it tells us so much about the relationships on this show and ultimately, any relationship that The Darkling is to have. It shows us harrowing pain and grief and thus, it reveals heart somewhere deep within.
But that’s the past, and in the present, there are a lot less grey areas—no matter his motives and if we take his grief aside, he is now choosing not to destroy the fold, but to expand it. The dart is aimed towards one target and one target only, but the interesting part in all this is that we do believe in the fact that he himself genuinely doesn’t see this as a villainous act. Thus, let’s look into what happens when he and his team find Alina and Mal with Morozova’s stag. “I am a man of my word” is a strong detail to cling to because when he does in fact heal Mal, he stands on this, not to mention the genuine flashback when he reaffirms this detail and the frustrations behind those questioning him.
The Choice to Control in “The Unsea”
Therefore, where Alina and Darkling are concerned, this is where it gets so nuanced because he forces her to choose in ways that he ultimately knows isn’t the right thing to do. And naturally, Alina chooses Mal because at the end of the day, her powers aside, she is never going to let him die so long as she can control it. Which is admirable and we’ll stand on the hill screaming about how extraordinarily explosive their friendship loyalty is. (We really do love them both, your honor.) But, Darkling chooses to kill the stag and use its antlers as an amplifier. Love to him is meaningless now.
We’re then back in a tent and David is once again put in an uncomfortable situation making us question Darkling most for this. He is a damn snowflake and shouldn’t have to do this. (I also still don’t understand what a Durast does.) But this moment is fascinating in every way because Alina goes off questioning everything about him including whether or not Aleksander is even his real name, causing a moment of utter rage to stiffen in his expressiveness as though offended by the audacity to even question this detail. But as we mentioned in episode four when he asked her to call him by his real name, it was a moment of actual vulnerability and equality. Whatever we’re watching, at least when handled in the manner that it has in Shadow and Bone, we know there’s truth to it. We know it was a moment he meant for and in a moment where perhaps he genuinely did believe something bigger could happen.
It’s also the fact that he calls her Alina in this moment too, not Miss Starkov, or perhaps even worse nothing at all. He uses her full name, he notes to how offended he is and he touches on the emotions she has clearly stirred in him with her belief to question what’s actually a truth.
Jessie Mei Li is straight fire in this moment because she holds her own so exquisitely, it’s a wonder to see and what happens with her performances so boldly reaffirms what we’d said about Alina finally coming to terms with her identity as the Sun Summoner. Because when Darkling notes back to what she had said about wanting to transfer her powers, she stands on the belief that she knows how to use it now and she stands on the belief that she knows who she is.
That said, when Darkling lowers himself to her level on the floor to utter: “Do you know the only thing more powerful than you or me? The two of us. Together. Together, we can end all wars. We can protect our own. Is that not what you want?” To which Alina boldly asks, “are we destroying the fold?” prompting a “we could do anything” And this could’ve quite effortlessly been one of the most gorgeous moments of two opposites in a place of equality—except Darkling screws that up by taking full control over her powers, which essentially equates to robbing her of agency. (If you know anything about me, you know this is not something I’m down with.)
Hey Siri, play “Rolling in the Deep” by Adele.
What The Darkling does and what he says remains most fascinating because it almost borders on a sense of delusion, he genuinely believes he’s in the right through all this and though he isn’t, though it comes down to cool motive, still manipulation, the tinges of humanity we see for instance his reaction to Alina being in pain really blur these lines in making us look at him from every angle.
The Choice to Survive
We’ll come back to Alina and Darkling once more, but we need to talk about Genya and we need to talk about this show’s problem with pitting women against each other. And here’s the thing, we get this is a fantasy therefore, the universe requires means of survival and it requires everyone to look out for themselves, but if this friendship isn’t resorted by season two, I will riot.
Genya was the first character in Little Palace who was easiest to adore and she still is because while I wish she was more transparent with Alina, I don’t fault her for a moment for making the decision to choose survival first. What we know about Genya and everything she’s had to endure—the abuse, the obvious trauma and every gross detail leading to what the king has done, it’s hard not to empathize with her. It’s hard not to hope that Alina also sees and understands that she did what she had to do.
Daisy Head’s performance in this moment floors me because the harrowing pause in her inability to recount just how much she used to struggle is enough for us to understand Genya’s sincerity. Because of the pain buried deep within her eyes that Head has been showing from the very first moment she was on screen, it’s enough to believe her when she says that she had no choice and that friendship isn’t a luxury she could afford over survival. Genya has been through a number of terrible things no woman should go through, and she’s clearly tried hard to fight through it. She did the best she could have when she warned Alina to be careful of powerful men. She made the choice she believed was best for her safety even if it meant betraying her friend because that was also laced with the belief that perhaps, she was doing something good for her friend too.
And Head shows us so much of Genya’s struggle by telling us that she waited years for the vengeance, which Alina responds to with the very kind of empathy we’d expect from her by stating that the king deserves every bit of her vengeance, but Kirigan doesn’t deserve her loyalty. And that much is true, but with Genya, ultimately no one is deserving of her loyalty, but it has to go somewhere if she needs to keep fighting to survive. And we have a lot of feelings about the fact that Jessie Mei Li and Daisy Head are both so heartbreakingly nuanced in this scene that it’s painfully clear just how much this friendship means to both of them in spite of the circumstances.
Both women are barely holding back tears unable to look away from one another but simultaneously unable to cope with what’s in front of them or how to find middle ground was so crushing.
The Mortal and Eternal aka The Children and The Childish Conversation
It’s the way that I quite loudly screamed: “are you two 12!?” multiple times during this scene that really gets me. A grown man stood in front of an 18-year-old and straight up said, you’re gonna die eventually, but I’m still gonna be here, so we’ll see at some point she’ll just have to choose me. And I have no clue how to process this information. Any of it. (And I’m assuming they’re all 18 and older because any younger just makes me uncomfortable.)
I also hate that Darkling read Alina’s letters to Mal and therefore knows just how special he is because really, friends—this is gross. Let me spell it out for you, agency. He’s constantly robbing her of this and this scene is particularly not making him look good. Ben Barnes and Archie Renaux are fantastic though, except when Mal calls him “shadow man”—actual words, and I ask again, are you two 12?!
The absence of this scene, sans comedic ridiculousness would’ve made this episode so much better, but I couldn’t not acknowledge how truly petty it was. And what I also can’t not acknowledge is the fact that blessed be this holy episode because we finally see Milo again and Jesper’s bullet helps Mal escape.
It’s what he deserves really after shadow man straight up told him he’s gonna die. No worries, bud. Milo’s got you. We got you.
The Choice to Become
The thing with the Darkling, and I’ll reiterate this again is that he genuinely believes he is in the right. When it comes to Alina and he comes by to say “I just want to talk to you,” he means just that. There’s nothing underlying here but the desire to have a conversation, perhaps for more lies and manipulation, but really, it stems from the genuine belief that she is his equal. When he says that he never intended for the fold become what it has, it’s easy to believe him because we know that while his choice is questionable, his motives were always clear. This might not have been the attempt from day one, but it’s the monster that he kept feeding when the hunger for power grew deeper.
He spews some more beliefs and Alina questions (rightfully so) pulling him in from every remark to make his motives clear perhaps, even for himself. Darkling genuinely believes that in building the Little Palace, he created a safe place for all of Grisha. And that’s a truth that we’ll believe too because Barnes makes it clear to us that there’s sincerity in this motive. So, if he genuinely believes this, does he understand just how out of control its gotten? There’s a moment where Alina defends Genya asking if he genuinely believes she was safe, and it’s clear that he’s questioning that. It’s clear that he is wondering about the truth she’s telling in this moment and whether or not he is actually right in this belief. Whether or not he has messed up and how gravely at that too.
That’s why this scene is such a constant gut punch because the nuances in both Jessie Mei Li and Ben Barnes’ performances are a constant play off of one another that’s just so enamoring to look into. Alina boldly states that if he had given her the choice, she could’ve made Ravka safer for Grisha once again reminding him of the fact that he’s robbed her from agency. (You go, girl.) And he acknowledges that she’s correct in that but interestingly states that she has given him a choice—the chance to finally make amends.” But, uhm … that’s not what you’re doing?
It’s the way Barnes says us and the way that his expression is full of layers that emphasize and touch on so much of the lines that his character blurs between his beliefs and actuality. He does believe that he is doing the right thing and maybe even questions himself further. There are moments, however fragmented, blink and you’ll miss it where it’s evident that he’s looking into who he is and what he’s done. Moments where he’s searching for the humanity he does not realize and refuses to grasp that he’s lost. The belief that his immortal state hasn’t robbed him from larger parts of his humanity is so interesting to look into which both Barnes and Li do in this moment so poignantly.
One of the most riveting sentences throughout the entirety of this series is “fine, make me your villain” because the Literature major in me has a field day with the way every little word can be analyzed here. Because the actuality of this scene and the word choice is so fascinating to dissect since there’s a clear difference between “make me” “your” and how personal it becomes.
He isn’t looking into himself fully because there’s a task and another literal showcase, this time in the form of their powers actually pushing his agenda forward. So the refusal to look within coupled with the belief he harbors is in a sense, a moment where he actually acknowledges that if she wants to look at him this way, then fine—so be it. He’ll be just that. And it’s so interesting to look into because the understanding that he doesn’t believe this himself, but he will now accept it because there’s no other choice touches on their dualities of light and dark so marvelously. But it’s a level of delusion, which is so interesting to look into for a villain.
That comment to Ivan about killing Mal if he tries to get near Alina? Your inconsistencies are showing, sir. The hypocrisy. The lies.
The Choice to Understand
When it comes to The Crows and their dynamics with one another, I’m stunned beyond words with the detail of how agency is a prevalent part to their relationships. And in this episode especially, between their performances and the decisions, I could write my damn dissertation on it.
When we’re reunited with them in some barn-like looking place we learn that Inej’s wound isn’t healing on its own and she needs to stitch it back up, prompting what is an actual gag from Jesper and utter horror from Kaz’s expression that has the power to destroy anyone with a heart from miles away. He can’t look at her, but at the same time, he can’t look away for too long and both choices are clearly too much for him to bear. At this point, he’s made the decision that they should just go back to Ketterdam because between their dwindling funds and their conflicting interests, cutting their losses is the best way to go, walking away then before he bears the sight of her stitching her own wound.
I went into this show knowing nothing but was keenly aware of the fact that there’s something Kaz is holding back with the glove and the clear distance between him and everyone else. When I then devoured the duology and re-watched, moments like this become that much more painful because while The Crows haven’t known each other as long as they do when we meet them in the books, Kaz Brekker very obviously admires Inej Ghafa. He cares deeply for her and he values her, and the emotions are undoubtedly heightened after he knows he could trust her in life or death.
To non-book readers even, it’s easy to look at them (given the previous episode as well) and wonder why he’s holding back when something is clearly happening inside of him. And it’s moments like this where Freddy Carter’s expressions tell us that this isn’t easy for Kaz because whatever he’s bottling up, even he doesn’t understand how to deal with it.
But Jesper stays and Jesper understands and if I loved this friendship less, I might be able to talk about it more. Because Jesper questions and he asks the why. He brings up something Inej doesn’t even need to answer but it’s enough to tell us that this girl has been through more than anyone should and at the same time, she’s mortal. Inej never had Healers at her side, Inej only had needles and Saints, and she had to learn how to take care of herself, which Jesper understands beautifully. And Kit Young touches on his understanding with a vulnerability that’s almost heartbreaking because he quickly brings up Kaz to deflect from his own pain.
Jesper reaffirms what we all know, which is that he’s convinced if Kaz knew any details, he’d kill Heleen himself and he’s right about it. For as much as Kaz knows about what happens at brothels, it’s obvious he hasn’t questioned just how much has actually taken place because we’re all convinced he’d go feral at the thought aren’t we? It’s a thought we know that is too unbearable for him, for if he can barely look at her in pain, the idea of questioning just how much she’s gone through would actually destroy him. And thus, in a sense it’s a good thing because for the time being, this saves Inej from having more blood on her hands.
And what I love most about this scene is that Jesper says Kaz wouldn’t let her go back, but at the same time that he shouldn’t tell her what to do with her chance at freedom.
And allow me a moment to once again scream about the fact that The Crows understand agency, and this episode is a beautiful testament to the fact that they are the healthiest group of thieves to exist. They’ll steal whatever is necessary, but another’s agency isn’t one of those things. Instead, where they don’t always have words and one minute they’re gagging, the next they’re reassuring, The Crows have an understanding that’s unlike anything else on the series. They’re also all excellent at talking to one another with so few words thus, Amita Suman and Kit Young make it clear that their characters see each other and care deeply for one another. (Which, again is only the beginning of how much closer they’ll all get later.)
The fascinating thing with Inej and Jesper and their relationship is that it is a bit easier for them to talk to each other. Inej can admit to Jesper that he makes this all harder, and he can joke that he’d miss him too. He can joke that he’s fantastic. He can make jokes about very real emotions without taking away from the weight of the words, which helps to solidify their bond and make it that much stronger in its own distinct way. They each have their own language with one another and it’s never not the most entertaining thing.
“Jes” might as well be Suli for friendship. Especially because that’s how ridiculous their banter is, so ridiculous that between both of them essentially (and lovingly) voicing their hesitations about Kaz operating Arken’s machine, the thing that leaves him annoyed beyond words is Jes. It’s not their doubt in him. It’s Inej calling Jesper “Jes” and this little detail change from the books sets me off. That’s the one thing he picks up on. He just has to mention it, fully appalled, and I have to scream about it.
I’ve talked a great deal about Amita Suman’s performance as Inej in my Character Deep Dive of her, but can we talk about how utterly real she made this moment feel? I couldn’t look away, but I also couldn’t stop cringing and the way her body shook in the midst of it was just gut-wrenching.
The Faces of Those Who Were Kind
This scene already has a very lengthy scene breakdown that we cover here, so for the sake of the review to flow, we’ll only share a bit of it.
“Crows don’t just remember the faces of people who wronged them. They also remember those who were kind. They tell each other who to look after and who to watch out for.”
This shared moment of vulnerability is fortressed by the fire, solidified through the flames, and stored into the night with embers lighting the darkened corridors of their beings. Kaz and Inej need each other. And that’s where so much of the beauty in this scene lies in–the quiet resilience of their souls finding solace in a way neither of them thought possible. Physically distanced from one another and still completely connected in every way two people can be. A small moment, but colossal in its effect. No one is vanishing tonight.
Where they are both skilled and strong on their own, together, they are something else entirely; they are complexities etched into eons of darkness, finally discovering light in the unwavering loyalty and enveloping partnership that’s stirred them profoundly. It’s a moment of shared vulnerability with trepidations aside between two people who have had too much taken from them, but their belief in each other comes as an absolution of sorts.
There are a thousand words being shared in the final few moments of the glistening back and forth that touch on emotions no one has ever seen and parts of their being no one has ever ventured into. For a moment, they aren’t Dirtyhands and the Wraith—they are Kaz and Inej, the two kids who have lost so much, but somewhere in the midst of all the agony, they found each other and a place of alignment, a home in the vast flight towards a kaleidoscope of promises. Underneath the night sky with the stars and the moon sheltering them steady, the embers from the fire paint the stories in their eyes while the slow hums of nature unveils the breathtaking intimacy in their bond.
It’s the kind of vulnerability that starts to shatter the walls built on tarnished innocence and leads them towards something that can and will be healing–something that’s utterly strengthening.
Scene Breakdown: A Moment of Vulnerability in Shadow and Bone’s “The Unsea” Between Inej Ghafa and Kaz Brekker
Jesper the Fabrikator
We might not get the words straight out of his mouth, but Jesper is clearly putting his abilities to use and it’s fascinating because Kaz and Inej must know about it at this point. It’s also so interesting to just see how much The Crows benefit each other—how much they do for each other with zero ulterior motives and essentially showcasing the excellence in their “gang,” Freddy Carter’s words, not mine.
A Perfectly Clear Position
In an episode where the lines between choices blur, when it comes to The Crows, and particularly aligning with Inej’s position, everything is unmistakably crystalized. Kaz Brekker doesn’t always have words, but “The Unsea” gives him more than plenty. And when he says that they are no longer going after Alina, there are no lies buried underneath.
“Jesper and I can’t do it without you and you’ve made your position perfectly clear.” Please take a moment to shout about agency with me (again) because this is how you propose it to someone. Kaz might not harbor the same beliefs as Inej, but the respect he carries for her is in the same spectrum as her faith. Kaz’s belief in Inej is untarnished, unwavering, and entirely true. Therefore, if Inej has made her position clear then Kaz needs to respect it and he will.
This fight isn’t one they can win without her, but more than that, it’s not one either of them want. Conflicting interests be damned because they are a team, and the intimacy of their bond is more vital than however many million kruge is offered. There is nothing Kaz wouldn’t sacrifice for Inej and there’s no choice he wouldn’t make if it would benefit her. Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason, but we are continuously shown that Inej Ghafa is at the forefront of all his choices. She comes first—her safety, her happiness, and most importantly her agency.
There is no part of him that wants to let her go, but if it came down to the fact that she wanted to—she has the room to. She isn’t bound to Kaz or The Crows or to anyone, and that’s what is so riveting about their partnership because it is rooted in freedom. She is always given the choice—if she wants to go with him, she will and if she doesn’t want to do something, she won’t. His choice will always be synonymous with Inej’s agency; they are aligned in a number of ways but most masterfully, in the ardent transparency that begins beaming from this episode forward.
It is the detail that they operate perfectly as a team because not only do they each know their position, but they value each other’s skills with exponential respect. No one is going to question how Inej scales or how Jesper shoots or where Kaz aims his cane. (Jesper will only question it when he uses it to get himself out of work.) Regardless, it’s stealthy and powerful and easily makes for some of the best scenes on screen.
“The Unsea” is an episode that touches on the importance of transparency beautifully while humanizing these characters in such riveting way, we’d be here forever if I tried to cover it all. After my first watch, this was the episode that demanded I review the series weekly because it demanded to be excavated. There is no character on this series who is completely perfect, and Shadow and Bone is the story of damaged kids who have been given choices while at the same time, being robbed of said choices as well. Nothing is ever black and white. The morally grey areas they each tumble on take them in and out of situations that largely compromise how they operate with other human beings. And that’s why it works so well because the complexities are on a scale that’s so incredibly mature I can’t grapple with it all.
If the series focused too heavily on its plot as opposed to moments of quiet vulnerability like we see in this episode, it would not work. Its greatest strength lies in its nuanced characters, the shared trauma, and moments that make us question and think through.
No mourners. No funerals.
No mourners. No funerals. Four words that touch on hope in a way that should not be as stunning as it is, but here we are. It’s the one line everyone was waiting to hear and it hits like a ton of bricks. Secluded in their own corner of the skiff, watching from afar, a bleak end seems to be in sight, but there is a sense of hope that Kaz and Inej evoke when uttering the very words that define The Crows and inadvertently, these stories.
Sometimes there will be mourners and funerals, but not in this episode—not in this moment, right now, there is hope.
It is the promise that in the midst of all this, whatever the fold brings, and however exposed they are, they are going to look out for each other. They are going to remember the faces of those who were kind, and the moments that define their story will be met at the end of this darkness. This form of hope that they put out is where their humanity beams through, and tells us that the fight towards finding a way home is never something they will back away from.
They have each other’s back. Kaz, Inej, and Jesper—more later, but for now, it’s the three of them through everything. It’s Kaz and Inej instilling hope into Jesper through a promise that ensures they’ll look out for each other (knives drawn, pistols blazing, and cane in hand), they go forward together.
Midnight Heists and Further Thoughts
- Is it any surprise that this episode is my favorite when The Crows get the last line? And it’s the line? Talk about a penultimate episode.
- Let’s also talk about the way that Kaz and Inej are basically married in this episode and Jesper is the kid (or cool uncle, I don’t know I haven’t decided yet) who’s stuck in between them. The way they looked at each other to smirk when Jesper questioned the fact that he doesn’t actually look that old? #Married. Seriously. Don’t think about the fact that Kaz Brekker has 101 expressions saved just for when looking at Inej. Followed by Kaz looking at Inej when they see Alina and Inej responding with “I know, not until…” #Married. Sometimes they just gotta reassure each other that they know, you know? But also, the dutiful husband nod when she says “so, all you want is to cross the fold?” It’s hilarious is what it is.
- THE ANTLERS ARE BIZARRE AF. And gross. I have a bone to pick with whoever decided that was a good idea. I mean truly, disgusting.
- MILO HELPING MAL ESCAPE. JESPER BRINGING UP MILO IN THE SAME EPISODE.
- That said, still not over the fact that from that entire conversation Inej calling Jesper Jes didn’t sit well with Kaz. That utterly horrified look of “I cannot believe” that Freddy Carter wore is an A+ scene to watch when you need a good laugh. Your name is too short, bud. She can’t give you a nickname, too. But it’s okay, you’re still her person. Don’t worry.
- Genya and David are going to have a lot of fun bonding over the awkward situations they were put in because of Darklina. Also, we need more of them. So much more. (Genya and David, that is.)
- The scars on Inej’s abdomen actually broke me when I realized how many she had. DARLING GIRL.
What are your thoughts on this episode of Shadow and Bone? Tell us in the comments below.