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A friend had commented once that Neal had a gift for making someone want to punch him just for saying hello.
It’s not that I don’t love you all,” she assured the fifty-odd birds.
“You need never unsay anything that you did not say in the first place.”
“When people say a knight’s job is all glory, I laugh, and laugh, and laugh,” he said. “Often I can stop laughing before they edge away and talk about soothing drinks.
Finally she said, “Begging my lord’s pardon, but you are a bad man.”
“Beware the women of the warrior class, for all they touch is both decorative and deadly.”
Lord Raoul asked me to tell you that if you get yourself killed, he will never speak to you again.”
“The last fall I got from any man was from him, ten years ago.” “You’ve beaten him since?” Kel asked, thinking he might share his secret. “Mithros, no—I just don’t joust with him anymore. I have my pride,” Raoul said.
And he’ll teach me to breed dogs!”
“It’s the only bad thing about animals,” she told Cleon. “Most don’t live as long as we do.” “I know, sweet,” Cleon said, kissing first one of her eyelids, then the other. “But think how bleak life would be without them.”
“The brilliance and fury of battle, the sound of trumpets in the air, the flowers, and the pretty girls—or pretty boys, in your case—climbing all over us.” Kel, every bit as muddy and weary as her knight-master, grinned. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, my lord. You are a bad man.”
Dimpled girls were her worst daymare: men were supposed to be unable to defend themselves against them.
There was only one reason he would feel he couldn’t bed her until he talked his mother around. That scared her far more than sex.
Kel shook her head. “I’ll stick to jousting,” she told her friend. “It’s nice and simple, just like me.”
Try to remember that armor works much better when it’s on.”

