Valek smiled. “Good. First, send Kade a reply, asking him not to come.” He pointed at the unopened letter on the table. I had forgotten about it. Sealed with wax, the message appeared to be secured. Valek shrugged. “I was bored.
Some Queen of the Pipes, I thought. I'd believed I was better than a mindless drone. But I was the mindless one, hiding away. Even now I referred to them as if I didn't belong.
I am Trella the victorious leader of the Force of Sheep rebellion. Yes the name sounds ridiculous, and I still can't believe we named a major life changing event after livestock—or actually a stuffed animal—but it made sense at the time.
I stepped closer to him and lowered my voice. 'If you could change one thing, what would it be?' He pulled the sheep pendant from his pocket. A question filled his eyes. I held out my hand. Riley placed it in my palm and I curled my finger around the necklace, pressing the metal into my skin.
Riley squinted. He ran his fingers along my neck. When he found the collar he explored the surface and tried to tug it. "No seams. It doesn't fell like metal. The colour is amazing". "Why?" (Trella) "It blends in. It matches your skin. Didn't you know?" (Riley) "No mirrors in my cell." (Trella) He gasped with mock horror. "So cruel! How did you ever survive?" (Riley)
Back so soon?" he asked. "Too bad. I was just about to organize a search for your dead body. What happened when you knocked on the southerner magician's door to sacrifice yourself? Did they kick you out, thinking you too half-witted to waste their time on?
I didn't expect a knife, though. Is it the one missing from the kitchen?" "Did Rand report it?" I felt betrayed. Why hadn't he just asked for it back? "No. It just makes sense to keep track of large kitchen knives, so when one goes missing you're not surprised when someone attacks you with it.
A full-out rebellion would take a major amount of luck and coordination. The Tech Nos and Domotor looked at me, waiting. No one else would be able to organize both sides. I drew in a deep breath. We had the technology, the intelligence and the people—put enough sheep together and you have a herd, a force to be reckoned with. We needed a leader.
An execution order hasn’t kept us apart before. There are ways to get around it. We will be together.” “Is that an order?” “No, a promise.
I didn’t want or expect this. But I couldn’t resist you.
I understood that Valek’s loyalty to the Commander was without question. His blue eyes held a fierce determination and I knew in my soul that Valek would take his own life after he had taken mine.
'Did you live here?' Leif asked. I nodded. 'For two years'.'Where did you stay?' 'I had a room in Valek's suite.' Leif shot me an incredulous look. 'Boy, you worked fast.'
I had hoped to hear everyone discussing how much they missed my altruistic qualities, my legendary skills as a fighter and as a lover." He leered. "Instead, you're making plans for tomorrow. Interesting how life goes on in spite of itself.
Oscove?" Valek paused. "He didn't have the stomach for it.
One, and two, and three, four, five. Keep fighting like this and you will die," Janco sang.
Nice Kerrick was scarier than Mean Kerrick.
Unfortunately, diplomacy was a dance I needed to learn.
Do you really want to know why you lost?” I asked. “Do you really have an answer?” he countered. “You need to get off your horse and run with your men. You don’t have the stamina for a long fight. And find a lighter sword.” “But it was my uncle’s.” “You’re not your uncle.” “But I’m the King, and this is the King’s sword,” Cahil said. His brows creased together. He seemed confused. “So wear it to your coronation,” I said. “If you use it in battle, you’ll be wearing it to your funeral,” I said.
I gave him a bored look. I had been threatened many times before and had learned that the men who didn’t make verbal threats were the most dangerous.
Should haves lead to death
In the end, only Leif believed that you were still alive. He thought you might be hiding somewhere, playing a game. As the rest of us grieved, Leif searched the jungle for you day after day.” “When did he finally stop?” I asked. “Yesterday.
You're easily distracted by the pattern of the cloth and can't see the quality of the threads.
I did what any good rat would do. I bit down on the guard's hand until I tasted blood.
I balled my hands into tight fists to keep them from wrapping around Mr. I-Know-Everything's superior neck.
You’ve only had a small glimpse of how insufferable and annoying I can be. As the older brother, it’s my birthright.
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