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Do you see it? Not only is he threatening to kill me in a painful manner, but he did a weird thing with capitalizing all the words. That alone tells me he’s the worst sort of psychopath.”
“Go to the sea hell, you robotic tyrant!” I shouted. “I’m just trying to buy some freaking nut-free vitamin corn for my human!”
“You were here to kill me. Self-defense. Don’t get your panties in a bunch about it.”
“I don’t believe I have the wrong person, Aenor Dahut, disgraced princess from the House of Meriadoc.”
What was a polite way to say I wish I’d never begun this conversation and I would vastly prefer silence?
“She of the House of Meriadoc will bring a reign of death. She of the poisoned blood.”
“You’re a demigod, aren’t you?” I asked. “Was it the rising from the dead that gave it away?” “What’s your name?” “Lyr.” Lyr. God of the sea. Like all gods, the sea god had many names, depending on the culture. Dagon, Lyr, Poseidan, Yamm, and so on. This man, the Ankou, had been named for his father … the god I worshipped. No wonder I’d felt compelled to worship him when I first met him by the Thames. Of all the people to kill….
This was the thing with men, as my mother—Queen Malgven herself—had warned me. It didn’t matter who you really were; they wrote their own stories about you. They cast you in one of several roles: the innocent girl who needed teaching, the lunatic who needed calming, the whore who’d break your heart.
How immensely human to be scared of bumblebees and ghosts while speeding around in flaming death machines all day like it was nothing.
“In any case, if you tried to destroy the world, I’m sure you’d have a good reason.” “Right. Like if someone next to me on the bus chewed a banana with their mouth open.” “You’d be well within your rights to send the earth into a black hole for that. Anyone would agree.”
