The Poisoner's Enemy (Kingfountain, #0.4)

by Jeff Wheeler

As she made the tiny, precise stitches, she felt better equipped to judge the truth of whatever was vexing or confusing her. Something about it helped her reason through her feelings and solve problems.

It was while I was living in the duke’s household that I began to hone my own intuition. I began to see the difference between what people said and what they meant.

He smiled ruefully. “You could say that, lass. The rooster crows in its own time, though. Not when we want it to.” In other words, she realized, he would say no more.

Sometimes it can be difficult keeping a secret. They want to worm free. It is the temptation of most to boast about themselves, but I have always been good at keeping secrets. —Ankarette Tryneowy

Never shout when a firm voice will do. Never a firm voice when a whisper suffices. Never a whisper if a sigh says it all. And sometimes a glance is powerful enough to convey the true meaning.

There is no pain as awful as that of suspense. It was a lesson from one of the masters of the school. He had once said that a victim could die believing they’d been poisoned even if they’d been given nothing but an innocuous powder. The belief that it was fatal could make it so. A person’s mind was a powerful tool that could be used against them.

Sometimes we fear the worst in others to keep from seeing the truth about ourselves.”

She kept a close eye on his face, watching to see how he reacted to the news. A lie was always best served with a generous buttering of truth.

She had been trained that praise was a sweetness no one ever lost the craving for. It was best not to be too fond of it. The best way to do that was to share the credit with others.

He was giving her that look again . . . the one that said he truly saw her. Her emotions bubbled over inside and she nearly grinned like a foolish young woman.

I always worry too much about what the other person is thinking, how they are taking my words. Then my thoughts get jumbled together and my tongue unloosens from my jaw and I make a botch of it all.”

Once you’ve sold your integrity, you cannot buy it back.”

She had agreed to continue being his poisoner so long as she was allowed to save the lives of five people for every person he asked her to kill.