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Yet after a few turns in his company, she could see he was drawn with the same outline, but not filled in with entirely the same colors.
“I dunno. I thought you’d be an autonomous collective or something.” “Autonomous fucking collective?” BigJon looked Sid up and down. “What kind of backward-arse shit-brained government is that? Sounds a recipe for chaos to me.”
“Don’t fuck with librarians, young lady. We know the power of words.”
“O, aye, she sends her regards, by the by,” Corleone replied without skipping a beat. “She told me to tell you she hopes you’re not still embarrassed. It happens even to the best of men, apparently.”
“My name is Mia Corvere,” she said, still unblinking. “Blade of the Red Church. Champion of the Venatus Magni. Chosen of the Dark Mother and Queen of Scoundrels. Never call me girl again.”
I know thats right
“I am a daughter of the dark between the stars,” she replied. “I am the thought that wakes the bastards of this world sweating in the nevernight. I am the vengeance of every orphaned daughter, every murdered mother, every bastard son.” Mia leaned forward and looked the man in the eye. “I am the war you cannot win.”
“I DENIED DEATH FOR YOU,” he breathed, leaning closer still. “AND I’D DIE FOR YOU AGAIN. KILL FOR YOU. I’D TEAR THE STARS DOWN FROM THE HEAVENS TO FASHION YOU A CROWN. YOU ARE MY HEART. MY QUEEN. I’D DO ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING YOU ASK ME, MIA.”
IF FOUND, PLEASE RETURN TO CLOUD CORLEONE. IF STOLEN, WELL PLAYED, GENTLEFRIEND.
This is an aelin moment
Mia eyed the books with disdain. “Only a wanker reads her own biography, Sid. Especially if it’s got footnotes.”
Part of having is the fear of losing. Part of creating is the fear of it breaking. Part of beginning is the fear of your ending. Fear is never a choice. Never a choice. But letting it rule you is.
Because to be alive was ever in some way to be afraid.
“He couldn’t be here himself,” she said, black tears gleaming in her eyes. “Not even the Mother has the power to gift life to the dead twice. So he could only show me the way back. He was willing to give that much for her. That was the kind of boy he was. But Tric told me to tell you hello, Spiderkiller.” The gravebone swords rose up in her hands. “And he asked me to give you these.” The truedark breeze was cool on her skin. The sky above as empty as the place her heart had once been. And Spiderkiller closed her eyes.
But to live in the hearts of those we leave behind is to never die. And to burn in the memories of our friends is to never say goodbye. So let me say this instead. Goodnight, gentlefriend. Goodnight. Never flinch. Never fear. And never, ever forget.
