The Infernal Battalion (The Shadow Campaigns, #5)

by Django Wexler

Maidservant, bodyguard, spy, assassin. Friend.

“A small price to pay to be rid of me!” Dorsay cackled. “No doubt you’ll throw a party to celebrate.”

And I can see the rest of my life stretching out in front of me, formal dresses and balls and arguing with the Deputies.

Until I have to fake my own death and leave forever.

People who get close to me end up dead.

by the by.

We’ve crammed a lot of fighting into the last two years.

putting too many eggs in one basket.

I’m getting really sick of people telling me how being older helps them understand.

Enjoy it while it lasts.

Is he joking? “Yes, sir,” Marcus said cautiously. It’s not my opinion; it’s a fucking fact.

I have enough on my conscience as it is.

Again. They always trust me. And then they die.

Has she been taking lessons from Fitz?

God save us from clever officers.

we’ll give ’em hell!”

Not Raesinia, just the queen, a convenient body to wed and breed, a pawn on the game board of nations.

stock-in-trade.

The Queen of Vordan and the Second Prince of Borel, caged together.

dog-eat-dog world,

“We may both be getting too old for war.”

“Greatest thief in the world, remember? Cutting a purse isn’t exactly a challenge.”

“I told you to kill me,” Ennika said, sounding like a sulky child.

Was this what I had in mind all along? Marcus sighed.

“I’m not still asleep, am I? Don’t answer that.

men-of-war

All right, she conceded. Maybe I am a lovesick schoolgirl.

Do I always sound like that?