[ His policy against imposing his salvation on children is a direct inversion of her father's modus operandi, whose principle focus is children, but hardly to the welfare of the parents that so often succumb to the violence of his eternal crusade. Mordrake refuses to reap the innocence of youth when one's slate is more or less clean and the indignities of life have yet to exact their toll; but what of the innocence of Millie Manx whose youth persists outside of time? Has she not endured the indignities, or is she forever impervious to them?

The seizure of her hand rips an animal snarl from her lips, yet she is given pause, her sickly, sunken eyes momentarily struck by confusion. She is unaccustomed to defiance. Yes, the "drifters" flail for dear life and the children under her command she disciplines at first sign of disobedience, but his audacity falls outside the norm. ]

Dancing on thin ice is what you are. Can you hear the crik-crack underneath?

[ She is not manhandled; she does the handling! The imposition on her authority supersedes even the mysteries of their conjoined fates. Millie yanks her wrist free with incredible force. She snares his sumptuous coat in fists and lounges forward. The thump of his back against the ground frightens blackbirds from the trees. Mille is crouched with her boots astride his torso, his coat gripped in her fists. ]

I'm at war, Eddy. There is a war on Christmas happening right under your nose. I have no patience for insubordinate civilians.

[ Her fingers squeeze the fabric. ]

Were you meant to help me win or bog me down? What say fate of your allegiance?