“Let him come to Charcy, with his hithertos and his wherefores, and there he will find me, and with all the might of my kingdom I will scourge him from the field."And if you want a personal message," said Laurent, "You can tell my uncle boykiller that he can cut the head off every child from here to the capital. It won't make him into a king, it will simply mean he has no one left to fuck.”

“You can tell my uncle boykiller that he can cut the head off every child from here to the capital. It won't make him into a king, it will simply mean he has no one left to fuck.”

“I should make you watch, said Laurent, while he's stripped down for every man in the troop to have him."Damen stepped forward. "You don't mean this. You need him as a hostage.""I don't need him continent," said Laurent.”

“Damen pushed himself up on an elbow, and propped his head on his hand, his fingers in his hair. He saw that Laurent was looking at him. Not watching him, as he did sometimes, but looking at him, as a man might look at a carving that has caught his attention.”

“I'm twenty years old,' said Laurent, 'and I've been the recipient of offers almost as long as I can remember.' 'Is that an answer?' said Damen. 'I'm not a virgin,' said Laurent. 'I wondered,' Damen said, carefully, 'if you reserved your love for women.' 'No, I--' Laurent sounded surprised. Then he seemed to realise that his surprise gave something fundamental away, and he looked away with a muttered breath; when he looked back at Damen there was a wry smile on his lips, but he said, steadily, 'No.' 'Have I said something to offend you? I didn't mean--' 'No. A plausible, benign and uncomplicated theory. Trust you to come up with it.' 'It's not my fault that no one in your country can think in a straight line,' said Damen, frowning a touch defensively.”

“To Laurent, in the same voice, he said, 'Calm down.'Laurent said, 'I wasn't finished.''Finished what?' Reducing every man in the room? Jord isn't any kind of match for you in this mood, and you know it. Calm down.'Laurent gave him the kind of look a swordsman gives as he decides whether or not to slice his unarmed enemy in half.”

“Laurent wasn't loved. Laurent wasn't liked. Even among his own men, who would follow him off a cliff, there was the unequivocal consensus that Laurent was, as Orlant had once described him, a cast iron bitch, that it was a very bad idea to get on his bad side, and that as for his good side, he didn't have one.”