Poison was too good for the Guardian. Too easy. I was going to kill that man with my own two hands. Maybe a knife sliced across his throat while he was sleeping. Or an arrow shot straight through his heart while he was enjoying his midday meal. Whatever fury he saw in my eyes only made that arrogant grin widen. He shoved off the table, not sparing my father a glance as he passed me for the stairs. “Enjoy your last night in Quentis, Sparrow. We sail at dawn.”
