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learning the words of an enemy was as important as learning the words of a friend.
The methodical ritual of unlacing made Damen wonder, scornfully, if Veretian lovers suspended their passion for a half hour in order to disrobe.
And what did it mean, to be a prince, if he did not strive to protect those weaker than himself?
He was not inclined to believe that cruelty delivered with one hand was redeemed by a caress from the other,
Laurent was a nest of scorpions in the body of one person. Torveld looked at him and saw a buttercup.
In the stretched-out moment that followed, Damen thought explicitly about killing him.
“Yes, apparently I have fucked my enemy, conspired against my future interests, and colluded in my own murder. I can’t wait to see what feats I will perform next.”
all bright hair and astonishing profile. A golden prince was easy to love if you did not have to watch him picking wings off flies.
