The Blinding Knife (Lightbringer, #2)

by Brent Weeks

“Good evening,” Gavin greeted the Blackguards at the door to his rooms. He didn’t recognize either man. They were young, maybe eighteen. They looked like children—and when eighteen-year-old men look like children to you, it’s a sure sign that you’re getting old.

He drafted another green ball into his hands and just held it there, trying to look threatening.

Gavin couldn’t meet their eyes. “I’m not the man you think I am,” he said very quietly. “Are you the man I’ve served these past ten years?” Ironfist asked. “I am.” “Then perhaps, my lord, you’re not the man you think you are.”

Love is not a whim. Love is not a flower that fades with a few fleeting years. Love is a choice wedded to action, my husband, and I chose you, and I will choose you every day for the rest of my life.”