Kutipan
she’d thanked him for not bespelling her off the cliff.
“Keep your thanks,” he told her. “And an eye on your ale. I’m brewing something that turns shrews into toads.”
“While you’re at it, brew something that bestows courtesy and swallow a cup or two yourself,” she shot back
“Keep your thanks,” he told her. “And an eye on your ale. I’m brewing something that turns shrews into toads.”
“While you’re at it, brew something that bestows courtesy and swallow a cup or two yourself,” she shot back
Strength without cruelty, pride without arrogance and an iron perseverance
When he died, Louvaen thought someone had reached into her chest, bashed a few of her ribs along the way, and pulled her heart out of her body.
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