“I don’t know you, not because I didn’t ask the right questions, but because you never trusted me enough to let me in. You’re right about me, I want more. I want all of you.”
“I don’t know you, not because I didn’t ask the right questions, but because you never trusted me enough to let me in. You’re right about me, I want more. I want all of you.”
“For two weeks, he’d come here after putting in a twelve-hour day at the studio. Two long weeks of watching, aching. And for what? Isabeau Montgomery wanted nothing to do with him. She had him completely at her feet, and she didn’t even know it. Hell, had she known, she most likely wouldn’t care.”
“The girl you’re looking for no longer exists. She died thirteen years ago. The woman who’s left, she’s just a bartender.”
“When I finally get you alone, with no one to interrupt us and no where to be...It isn't going to be fast.”
“Every man would fall in love with their voice, their lovely appearance, but no man would ever get past that. They'd never really know the girls for who they actually were, never really love them. It would be impossible for any of the four girls to ever really fall in love and be genuinely loved in return.”
“He touched the sword he had taken from the ambush. "Aside from this and the trio of juggling stones, I've nothing but the clothes on my back."
Well then, tomorrow we'll go-"
"No. Prince Ryne told me to make sure you stay in the manor."
"It's just into town to buy you a few things. Surely there won't be any danger at the market." I sensed a softening. "And we'll take along Saul or Odd."
No. We'll send one of the caregivers with a shopping list," Flea said.
"Hey, that's..."
He waited.
I huffed. "A good idea. But don't be so smug. You're not going to win every argument."
"Oh, yes, I am."
"Oh, no, you're not."
Flea straightened to his full height. When did he get so tall? He rested his hands on his hips. "I am. Prince Ryne trusted me with the task of keeping you safe. And I'm not going to disappoint him."
I crossed my arms. "You sound like Kerrick."
"Thank you."
Uh-huh. You do know I disobeyed almost all of his orders. Right?" I suppressed a grin.
"I do. But I'm smarter than Kerrick."
"You are?"
Oh, yes. I know the magic word."
"And what would that be?"
"Please.”
“Celia had ordered his favourite meal of wild duck cooked in limes, and I advised that we eat without him and save his portion for him to dine later. ‘He”
“Our movements through time and space seem somehow trivial compared to a heap of boiled meat in broth, the smell of saffron, garlic, fishbones and Pernod.”
“Cake is not the issue here.”
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