I feel Him kiss my brow, a chill weight on my forehead. In the kiss is absolution, yes, but understanding as well. Understanding that it is He I serve, not the convent. His divine spark lives within me, a presence that will never leave. And I am but one of the many tools he has at his disposal. If I cannot act--if I refuse to act--that is a choice I am allowed to make. He has given me life, and all I must do to serve Him is live. Fully and with my whole heart.
R.L. LaFeversThis is what I want to be. An instrument of mercy, not vengeance.
R.L. LaFeversHe barks out a laugh. "My little rebel.
R.L. LaFeversHis divine spark lives within me, a presence that will never leave. And I am but one of many tools He has at His disposal. If I cannot act - if I refuse to act - that is a choice I am allowed to make. He has given me life, and all I must do to serve Him is to live. Fully and with my whole heart. With this knowledge comes a true understanding of all the gifts He has given me.
R.L. LaFeversAnd so it is with us; we serve as handmaidens to Death. When we are guided by His will, killing is a sacrament.
R.L. LaFevers... then he offers me his arm. As I take it, I wonder what folly decreed that women cannot walk unassisted.
R.L. LaFeversMots clés humor
Do you need anything before I go?
I want you to return my wits, I long to say.
Why be the lamb when you can be the lion?
R.L. LaFeversMots clés vengence
He does not start guiltily, as he should, but frowns in annoyance. "Who are you?"
I slip my hand through the slit of my overskirt, and my fingers close around the hard wood of the crossbow tiller. "Vengeance," I say softly.
People hear and see what they expect to hear and see.
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