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Jin was the sort of charming even a king would draw a chair for if he flashed the right smile—and he knew it,
It was unfair for the masked Ram to see so much when the people of Ettenia couldn’t even see the face of the monarch that ruled them.
“Weapons?” the butler asked, palm outstretched. “No, thank you.” Arthie smiled. “I have my own.”
There was a greed in his gaze, as if he feared missing the world by giving in to a blink.
After all, fear became hate when it festered long enough. The world always teemed with darkness, Ettenia had just given it a new name.
Arthie was neither of those things, only a girl who paid attention. It was hard to believe in fairy tales when she’d lived a nightmare, and it just so happened that legends were good for business.
She was still a child, but when you saw the cruelty of the world firsthand, you became a little cruel yourself.
They collected trophies for civilizing countries that had never asked for a redefinition of the word.
She wasn’t like him. She didn’t go around breaking hearts; she broke other things, like laws and contracts and bones.
Jin loved the sea. The hush hush of the waves, the lazy sway of the moored boats. He loved its lie, the calm that masked strength like a beast unprovoked.
he passed the dry dock where the skeletons of vessels stuck out every which way, all broken bones and sorry masts.
Outside her window, a lazy sun inched toward the soggy remains of the night.
was his weapon of choice—elegant, clean, and very him. Knife fight? Jin’s umbrella made an appearance. Confrontation? Umbrella. Stroll down the street? Umbrella.
“Short of tossing you in through the window, I don’t have a way to get you inside, and contrary to what you might think, threatening me in increasingly creative ways won’t make me produce ideas.”
