The Sin Eater’s Daughter

How could there be different Gods, Lief?" "I don't believe there are any at all," he says quietly. "But I believe there are men and women whose lives are made easier by believing someone is watching over them.

I am the perfect weapon, I can kill with a single touch.

If I come to you, I want it to be because I am choosing you, for no reason other than that. I don't want for to ever doubt it.

In the stories of old, a hero is the one who sweeps in with a drawn sword and noble face, to kill the Dragon and free the princess. In the stories of old it never seems to dawn on the princess that she should be careful not to put herself at mercy of those who would do her ill in the first place. I don't live in the stories of old.

A person can say a lot without speaking.

... but for now it's too great a pleasure to stay in my own cottage, with my own books, and do exactly what I want to do.

I am not cunning...I'm good at seeing around obstacles is all.

That's the problem with fairy tales, they change with the telling.

It's difficult to grieve for an idea.

I’ve learned that being alone and being lonely are not the same thing. Once I was surrounded by people and lonely for it, but now I’m alone and I’ve never been so content.

I’m not free, my lady,” he says slowly. “I can no more wander off and do as I will than you can.You think of having choices like people think of flying. They see a hawk soaring and hovering and they tell themselves how nice it would be to fly. But pigeons can fly, and sparrows too. No one imagines being a sparrow though. No one wants that.

They are blank, without conscience, without soul. I know all about souls. Before I became Daunen Embodied I was the Sin Eater’s daughter.

No Gods in Tregellan. No Gods in Tallith. Doesn’t that tell you anything? It’s about power and control, to keep you all in line. People like the queen tell us if we don’t do as the Gods want – as she wants – then our souls are damned. Think of the amount of murder she’s committed and tell me whose soul is more likely to be damned, hers or yours?

But I want you,” he smiles at me. “Not just to make me a king. I’ve always wanted you. Despite it all, you are still the bride I would choose. I do choose you.

Forgive me again.” He lifts the carafe and refreshes his goblet. “What happened to those two children who laughed at dandelion fuzz?” he says softly. “Are they gone forever, do you think?

I've read all of the old stories now – "Red Blood and Dirty Gold", "The Winter Witch", "The Scarlet Varulv" – and I want more. Though I want fantasy – made-up, impossible things – I don't want stories that step out of the pages and into the world around me.

Ihr stellt Euch ein Leben, in dem man seine eigenen Entscheidungen treffen kann, vor, wie sich andere vorstellen, fliegen zu können. Sie sehen, wie ein Falke über ihnen kreist, und dann sagen sie zu sich selbst, wie schön es wäre, auch so fliegen zu können. Aber Tauben fliegen auch und Spatzen ebenfalls. Niemand wünscht sich je ein Spatz zu sein.

My mother is a fat woman, made large from gobbling the sins of the dead, the meal prepared and served to her as if she were a queen for the day. For an Eating the mourners cover the surface of the coffin with breads and meats and ale and more, each morsel representing a sin known, or suspected, to have been committed by the deceased. She Eats it all; she has to – it’s the only way to cleanse the soul so it can ascend to the Eternal Kingdom. To not finish the meal is to condemn the soul to walk the world for ever. We’ve all heard the tales of the wraiths that haunt the West Woods because people less dedicated than my mother could not finish the Eating.

We’re to be married. Does it matter if I permit it?” “To me it does, yes,” says Merek. “And I imagine you, like me, appreciate the illusion of having a choice, even when illusion is all it is.