Counterpoint

Now you die while we live on, and you’ve no one to blame but your selves. So do not speak of betrayal behind my back, humans. For the Great Betrayal is your shame, not mine. ~ Ayden

All the world seemed suddenly dream, for in what waking world would a prince deceive his own people for the benefit of a slave? ~ Ayden

that clever mind, that sharp tongue and droll wit. His love for Ella, manifested in sacrifice and secret smiles; his sense of honor and duty; his pride in the face of unceasing subjugation. His joy of nature, his respect for all things living, his skill with . . . well, everything.

Perhaps you’d care to frame me and hang me in the hall ?" The First Wife reared back, her face twisting with confusion and scorn. "Excuse me ?" "You’re staring." "I do no such thing !

Yet men... you strive to shape the earth in your image,forgetting that the gods have already shaped it in theirs.

Ayden's eyes snapped up and narrowed to slits. "This is a collar," he said flatly. "Nay!" Freyrík said. "'Tis . . ." "A neck belt, perhaps? To hold my shirt up?" "A cravat," Freyrík said firmly. "Very fashionable, I assure you." He felt the elf's stare on his throat, unyielding as a choking hand. "Yet you do not wear one.