The Missing of Clairdelune (The Mirror Visitor, #2)

by Christelle Dabos

she was female dignity personified.

This difficult woman, who had frequently given her a hard time, had defended her as she would her own daughter.

Thorn was such an inexpressive man that, at first, Ophelia interpreted his rigid immobility as him waiting for something; when she noticed that he was staring intently at her, no longer blinking or breathing, she understood that, in reality, she had taken his breath away.

‘That I might never grow accustomed to it, or that, on the contrary, I end up getting used to it.’

“You still want my opinions and my advice, miss? Here’s my opinion: you’re in urgent need of advice. And here’s my advice: always listen to my opinion.”

“You wanted me to be honest with you. You will thus learn that you are not just a pair of hands to me. And I don’t give a damn whether people find me suspect, as long as I am not so in your eyes.

“Would you prefer to hear me say that I would like to be your reason for staying? I doubt it.”

The coexistence of the infinitely small and the infinitely large?

A real sea, odorous and cantankerous as a living being.

The past wasn’t always beautiful to look at, but the errors of the people who had preceded her on Earth had also become her own. If Ophelia had learned one thing in life, it was that errors were indispensible for personal development.

“No. I don’t want it to be Archibald’s choice, but yours, Ophelia. I am asking you to be the godmother of my child.”

It’s your heart that he really needs, not your hands.”

“Okay. Why are you detestable?”

“And you, do you still hate me?” “I don’t think so. Not anymore.” “Good,” Thorn grunted between his teeth. “Because I’ve never made such an effort not to be hated by someone.”

Sitting? Contorted would have been the right word. The chair was far too small for him, and he was struggling to handle his cutlery without his elbows poking his closest neighbors’ eyes out.