So you questioned him?" Raisa prompted. "What did he say for himself?"
"Well, the first thing Gillen does is steal his purse and beat him with a club." Amon said.
Sometimes you have to go somewhere else to appreciate what we have here.
Cinda Williams ChimaHer clothes still smoked from the wizard’s assault. But to him, she always smelled of flowers.
Cinda Williams ChimaNobody's going to hand you anything. You don't get what you don't go after.
Cinda Williams ChimaI live in the present because the future is always chancy. When it comes to being with you, I'm willing to take the risk.
Cinda Williams ChimaThe answer is no, I would rather marry the Demon King himself than marry you. I
suggest you look elsewhere for a bride. And heaven help the one you choose.
Just a rat, she repeated to herself. After all, there were rats in the palace. Human and otherwise. Could be worse.
Cinda Williams ChimaRaisa felt relieved, yet oddly disappointed. She was the blooded princess heir, yet in servants' clothes she was apparently unrecognizable. In the stories, rulers had a natural presence about them that identified them as such, even dressed in rags.
What's the nature of royalty, she wondered. Is it like a gown you put on that disappears when you take it off? Does anyone look beyond the finery? Could anyone in the queendom take her place, given the right accessories? If so, it was contrary to everything she'd ever been taught about bloodlines.
So here's the truth - I love you. I love everything about you – the way you stick up for people even when it costs you. The way you keep trying to do the right thing even when you're not exactly sure what the right thing is. I love how you put words together. You're as skilled with words as any knife fighter with a blade. You can put an enemy down on his back, or you can raise people up so they find what's best in themselves. You've changed my life. You've given me the words I need to become whatever I want.
I love how you talk to lytlings. You don't talk down to them. You respect them, and anybody can tell you're actually interested in what they have to say.
I love the way you ride a horse – how you stick there like an upland thistle, whooping like a Demonai. I love the way you throw back your head and stomp your feet when you dance. I love how you go after what you want – whether it's kisses or a queendom.
I love your skin, like copper dusted over with gold. And your eyes – they're the color of a forest lake shaded by evergreens. One of the secret places that only the Demonai know about.
I love the scent of you – when you've been out in the fresh air, and that perfume you put behind your ears sometimes.
Believe it or not, I even love your road smell – of sweat and horses and leather and wool.
I want to breathe you in for the rest of my life.
Tag: love raisa han-alister
(A)ny time you buy weapons, or build an army, you begin to look for an excuse to use them. Plus, you pose more of a threat to others.
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