All I'm saying is that I understand if the novelty's worn off and you want to get off the carousel ride now before it kills you.
Oh, Finn isn’t an assassin,” I cut in. “He’s much, much worse. He’s a banker.
You bruised my ego, you see, and there’s just not enough money in the world to soothe my ego when it gets bruised
I'd be damned if I let him see the tears in my eyes.
I did not glow with the thrill of battle. Cringe, yes. Glow, no.
Instead, I cut him. Not deep, but there was enough of a sting in the wound to remind him of what I'd done to the dwarven mobsters in the parking lot - and that I wasn't just some chick with a knife who looked good in black.