Whether I’m working a street corner or a market stall, well, that’s none of their business unless they’re buying. The anonymity is comfortable, like going around draped in magic, hidden from view.
Cat HellisenIt could be a true future that Ilven saw—she’s a Saint after all.
Was. Was a Saint.
There’s a distinct bitter aftertaste of Lady’s Gown in the tea, and I welcome it. Anything to sleep without dreaming.
Cat HellisenI will never let myself be caught like that—any marriage I make will be my own. A choice. A free one.
Cat HellisenIf there’s one thing my mother taught me, it is how to wear the perfect mask. Never show them what you’re really feeling because that’s how they hurt you.
Cat HellisenCarefully, I arrange the teapot, the little white cup, and the sugar bowl before me like an army. Defense? Or attack?
Cat HellisenMy mother still deludes herself that the letters are written out of more than a desire to spend as little time in our company as possible. She likes to think he is still hers.
Cat HellisenLet Piers and Owen make the wedding arrangements, just don’t expect the bride to be there like a dog called to heel. I’ll choose my own Gris-damned husband, thank you. If I even want one, and I’m not exactly certain of that. I want life on my own terms, not on the dictates of tradition and of haggling over power and land.
Cat HellisenThis time I keep to the long shadows where the darkness gathers thickest, picking my way across the silvery damp grass until I reach the edge of the world. Below, the rocks and waves are grinding against each other, and the wind sucks at me, begging me to take one more step, to throw myself down. Sacrifice, the water says in its sea-witch voice, full of whispers and promises. Sometimes I have to wonder if the Hob belief that the sea is animate, alive and full of magic, is more than just primitive nonsense.
Cat HellisenI picture my mother’s face when she must go out in public with Owen, the cold arrogant look she wears, as if the whole world is filth before her. It is an expression I’ve learned to copy well, and like all roles, if you can believe it, you can be it. I press my hands to my face and push, smoothing the worry and fear away. I’m better than them. Better than Owen, than Canroth Piers. They can never really control me because they cannot bridle my thoughts.
Cat HellisenPagina 1 di 6.
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