You touch me again, you arrogant Ardenine swine, and I swear on the blood of Hanalea the warrior, I will geld you. Do you understand?

I have lost everything, Han thought. Then he corrected himself. Every time I think I’ve lost everything, I find there’s still something else to lose.

Hope is a dangerous thing, Raisa thought. Once kindled, it's hard to put out. It makes wise people into fools.

You didn't have to go to the fireworks with him. Or - or let him fondle you." "Fondle?" Raisa raised her eyebrows, "When did I mention fondling?

Just a rat, she repeated to herself. After all, there were rats in the palace. Human and otherwise. Could be worse.

My tagline is ‘Less sex, more romance, lower body count.’

Han spotted a child‟s homespun dolly in the ditch, pressed into the mud. He reined in, meaning to climb down and fetch it so he could clean it up for his little sister. Then he remembered that Mari was dead and had no need of dollies anymore. Grief was like that. It gradually faded into a dull ache, until some simple sight or sound or scent hit him like a hammer blow.