... while I am Death's daughter and walk in His dark shadow, surely the darkness can give way to light sometimes.

I am a handmaiden of Death. I walk in His dark shadow and do His bidding. Serving Him is my only purpose in this life.

Every time he glances at me I feel it just as surely as if he has reached out and run his finger along my soul. It is all I can do not to smile at the sheer wonder of it.

I am beginning to think that love itself is never wrong. It is what love can drive people to do that is the problem.

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.

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

There is no shame in scars, Ismae.