I bear a deep red stain that runs from my left shoulder down to my right hip, a trail left by the herbwitch's poison that my mother used to try to expel me from her womb.

You come to us well tempered, my child, and it is not in my nature to be sorry for it. It is a well tempered blade that is the strongest.

It is all we have left to us. And while it is more than I ever dared dream, it is nowhere near enough.

I never skulk, and lurk only sometimes.

One heart cannot serve two masters.

I will sit here but an hour or two, then leave." I yawn. "So very long as that?" When he answers, there is a wry note in his voice. "I do have my reputation to protect.

There is no shame in scars, Ismae.