She crossed the room to him, put her arms around him, clung to him, turning her face to the side, learning all at once that it was awkward to show a person all of one's love when one's nose was broken.

I've liked you better when Katsa's around," Giddon said. "She's so rotten to me that you seem positively pleasant in contrast.

At least her last words to him had been words of love. But she wished she'd told him just how much she loved him. How much she had to thank him for, how many good things he had done. She hadn't told him nearly enough.

It's not fair. It's not fair," she cried, knowing it was a child's argument but not caring, because being childish did not make it untrue.

I have no doubt that you are more than capable of bringing the Monsean queen and my son and the rest of my sons and a hundred Nanderan kittens through an onslaught of howling raiders if you chose to.

His last thought was that it hadn't been stupidity that had allowed his son to enchant him so easily with words. It had been love.

It's as if when I open myself up to every perception, things create their own focus.