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“Because she is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm. The smoke that rolls across a battlefield before the killing starts. You have no idea what she is. What she could be. You should call her Majesty.”
Go off king…fisher!
Carrion held the sword, turning it this way and that. After much consideration, he said, “It looks like a Simon.” “Simon?” “Yeah. Simon. Don't blame me. That's what it looks—” He stopped talking and listened. “See. It likes the name. It wants to be Simon.”
LOL
