Paladin of Souls (World of the Five Gods, #2)

by Lois McMaster Bujold

Haha Jane Austen courtesy; vs. what? 21st century directness?

Haha

The eyes are the same. They see more clearly now, perhaps.”

Nice sentence.

Yes. I should have realized it then, even then. Or, if my girl’s judgment was too weak, where was that of the gods, who have no such excuse?

The clapping iron tongues of rumor and slander were not mine. I was silent, mostly.”

the Zangre’s dungeons.

A truth tacitly admitted by Ias when the dy Lutez legacy was not attaindered, as real traitors’ estates are, but let to flow to his heirs.”

But to explain the truth, in all its dark complexity—and complicity—could hardly advance any secret romantic dream of hers.

Failure wasn’t treason, even if the rubble it left in its wake was every bit as dire.

Nice sentence.

Gods, why have you brought me here? Have I not been punished enough? Does this amuse you?

we—

her faithful—

Hat is he hiding?

Por...

Simile extended

the gray bones of the world poked through the thinner soil,

Haha simile

Haha no doubt

How like a man,

Haha yup

The acolyte, her temporary handmaiden,

feeling no need to find some special place to seek the gods; they seemed to press on her in all places, at all times, equally.

Someplace they were guaranteed to not be, now that might be worth a pilgrimage.

Haha

Haha

It was a dream . . . wasn’t it?

Simile

Simile

I have seen this wound before.

Ch. 4 p. 58-9, where it was a dream - the blood was not real, but here it is real. And there it was in a courtyard with “alabaster pillars carved with a tracery of vines and flowers in the Roknari style.”

It was the right wound, she would swear to it, exact in every detail. But it was on the wrong man. Gods, gods, gods, what is this terror?

Chilling

Spooky

She opened her right palm and stared down at the carmine smear across it.

Chilling

Simile

Simile

an espaliered apricot tree,

my lord’s daughter does not live here, Royina . . .”

Cattilara dy Lutez,

Haha

Haha

Ista had no intention of neglecting her hurts. Her son Teidez had died, it was said, of an unattended injury upon his leg scarcely worse than a scratch, which had taken a febrile infection.

My father is the march of Oby—

Haha

Liviana

At 17. She’s now 21.

Haha simile

a rich silver mourning brooch set with amethysts and pearls.

Arhys’s flesh beneath her hand, as she had touched that misplaced wound, had been stiff and cool as wax.

ghosts—

her inner vision grown clear again. Undesired, unwelcomed, resented.

The gods give no gifts without hooks embedded.

Haha simile

“Illvin dy Arbanos,

“Illvin is also my half brother.”