... then he offers me his arm. As I take it, I wonder what folly decreed that women cannot walk unassisted.
Do you need anything before I go? I want you to return my wits, I long to say.
If he is smart, he will run. He is not.
Truly, we are the gods' own children, forged in the fire of our tortured pasts, but also blessed with unimaginable gifts.
Perhaps that is because you mistake death for justice, and they are not the same thing at all.
It is a good thing I no longer have a heart, because if I did, it would surely break.
And just as love has two sides, so too does Death. While Ismae will serve as His mercy, I will not, for that is not how He fashioned me. Every death I have witnessed, every horror I have endured, has forged me to be who I am -- Death's justice.
I am left with the conviction that an avalanche would be easier to dissuade than that man.
You love me?' 'Yes, you great lummox. I love you.' He lets out a sigh. 'Sweet Camulos! It's about time.
Jewels can be replaced, cousin. Independence, once lost, cannot.
He does not start guiltily, as he should, but frowns in annoyance. "Who are you?" I slip my hand through the slit of my overskirt, and my fingers close around the hard wood of the crossbow tiller. "Vengeance," I say softly.
Hate cannot be fought with hate. Evil cannot be conquered by darkness. Only love has the power to conquer them both.
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