“If this hast been done to language, I fear to know the fate of all else.”

“We may indeed die here, that's true. But we will all die anyway-is there any denying that? When you think of all the possible ways you might go, this is as fine a place as any, isn't it? I mean, to end one's life surrounded by friends, in a comfortable, dry room with plenty to read... that doesn't sound too awful, does it?""What is the advantage of fear, or the benefit of regret, or the bonus of granting misery a foothold even if death is embracing you? My old abbot used to say, 'Life is only precious if you wish it to be.' I look at it like the last bite of a wonderful meal-do you enjoy it, or does the knowledge that there is no more to follow make it so bitter that you would ruin the experience?" The monk looked around, but no one answered him. "If Maribor wishes for me to die, who am I to argue? After all, it is he who gave me life to begin with. Until he decides I am done, each day is a gift granted to me, and it would be wasted if spent poorly. Besides, for me, I've learned that the last bite is often the sweetest.”

“And I wish to thank you as well, Royce."He was puzzled. "For what?" "For reminding me that anyone, no matter what they've done, can find redemption if they seek it.”

“She put her hand on his shoulder and gave a soft squeeze. She did not know what else to do. First her mother, then her father and Fanen, and finally Hilfred—they were all gone. Mauvin was slipping away as well. The boy who loved his sword more than Wintertide presents, sweet chocolate cake, or swimming on a hot day refused to touch it anymore. The eldest son of Count Pickering, who had once challenged the sun to a duel because it had rained on the day of a hunt, spent his days watching ducks.”

“Royce looked back down at the stream below. "She doesn't even know me. What if she doesn't like me? Few people do.""She might not at first. Maribor knows I didn't. But you have a way of growing on a person." He smiled. "You know, like lichen or mold.”

“Right. And our first job is to teach her to give a speech on the Grand Balcony in three days.”“That does not sound too difficult. Has she done much public speaking?”Amilia forced a smile. “A week ago she said the word no.”

“There are still eight of us,” Guy pointed out. “Not exactly an even fight.”“I was thinking the same thing,” Mauvin said. “Sadly, there’s no one else here we can ask to join your side.”Guy looked at Mauvin, then Hadrian, for a long moment as the men glared across the ash at each other. Then he nodded and lowered his blade. “Well, I can see I’ll have to report your misconduct to the archbishop.”“Go ahead,” Hadrian said. “His body is buried with the rest of them just down the hillside.”