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“I’m afraid your questions didn’t merit a verbal response.” Dorian bowed low. “Then I apologize, my lady! How terrible it must be to condescend to answer! Next time, I’ll try to think of something more stimulating to say.”
Libraries were full of ideas—perhaps the most dangerous and powerful of all weapons.
“You don’t need me to rescue you.” “It still would have been nice.”
she’d loved to play, loved music, the way music could break and heal and make everything seem possible and heroic.
He had come here with the intention of embarrassing a snide assassin, and had instead found a young woman pouring her secrets into a pianoforte.
“Well, who wants to be hated? Though I’d rather be hated than invisible. But it makes no difference.” She wasn’t convincing. “You’re lonely?”
To her surprise, he smiled.
“Courage of the heart is very rare,” she said with sudden calm. “Let it guide you.”
“Unused to hearing people speak from the heart?” “Well, yes.”
“What’s the point in having a mind if you don’t use it to make judgments?”
“What’s the point in having a heart if you don’t use it to spare others from the harsh judgments of your mind?”
“I’d hope that Adarlan’s Assassin would choose to attack me in a more dignified manner. At least with a sword or a knife, though preferably not in the back.”
“The Lady Lillian belongs to herself, and no one else.”
“Because it looks like he’s in love with her,”
“We all bear scars, Dorian. Mine just happen to be more visible than most.
“For making my freedom mean something.”
“Give him hell,”
“You could rattle the stars,” she whispered. “You could do anything, if you only dared. And deep down, you know it, too. That’s what scares you most.”
The captain stood closer to her than he needed to.
