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For all that I have kissed before, I have never felt anything like this. It is as if I have swallowed a tiny piece of the sun, its warmth and light reaching into every corner of my soul and chasing away the shadows. I surrender to that kiss - surrender to the strength and the courage and the sheer goodness of the man.
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When one consorts with assassins, one must expect to dance along the edge of a knife once or twice.
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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.
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I have found it is surprisingly difficult to remain sad when a cat is doing its level best to sandpaper one's cheeks.
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You would throw away all that we have given you for a man’s love?” “Not a man’s love,” I say softly. “But Duval’s. And I would find a way to serve both my god and my heart. Surely He does not give us hearts so we may spend our lives ignoring them.
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He smiles then, and even though it is well past midnight, its as if the sun has just come out.
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So.... You are well equipped for our service.' 'Which is?' 'We kill people.
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The body on the ground is nothing more than a shell, a husk, and I am filled with a sense of peace. Yes, I think. Yes. This is what I want to be. An instrument of mercy, not vengeance.
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Whenever you are ready, or if you never are, my heart is yours, until Death do us part. Whatever that may mean when consorting with one of Death’s handmaidens.
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I am beginning to think that love itself is never wrong. It is what love can drive people to do that is the problem.
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A kiss for luck, demoiselle?" It is a magnificent, lusty kiss and I feel nothing but deep regret that it may be his last. Just before he pulls away, he whispers in my ear. "Duval said to give you that should I get a chance. It is from him.
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We are all of us, gods and mortals, made up of many pieces, some of them broken, some of them scarred, but none of them the total sum of who we are.
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You love me?' 'Yes, you great lummox. I love you.' He lets out a sigh. 'Sweet Camulos! It's about time.
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In the distance a wolf howls. Let it come, I think. Beast will most likely simply howl back, and the creature will either turn tail and run or fall into line behind him, like the rest of us have.
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Why be the sheep when you can be the wolf?
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... then he offers me his arm. As I take it, I wonder what folly decreed that women cannot walk unassisted.
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It is this kindness of his that unsettles me most. I can dodge a blow or block a knife. I am impervious to poison and know a dozen ways to escape a chokehold or garrote wire. But kindness? I do not know how to defend against that.
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Surely He does not give us hearts so we may spend our lives ignoring them.
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I comfort myself with the knowledge that if Duval ever feels smothered by me, it will be because I am holding a pillow over his face.
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If he is smart, he will run. He is not.
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Perhaps that is because you mistake death for justice, and they are not the same thing at all.
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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.
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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.
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I pause at the door, wishing I could find a corner and sleep until my head clears, but the sailor said the abbess is expecting me, and while I do not know much about abbesses, I suspect they are not fond of waiting.