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You should do that more often,” he said. “Laugh, I mean.” “I know.” But that sounded sad, and she didn’t want to be sad, so she added, “I don’t often get to torture grown men, though.” “Really?” he murmured. “I would think you do it all the time.” She looked at him. “When you walk into a room,” he said softly, “the air changes. ↗
Knighthood. Was he even worthy? Just a little while ago, he’d have answered yes without a doubt, but now, facing the cross and his own desires, he wasn’t so sure. Courage, loyalty, obedience, faith. If even a man like Ulric could act against those virtues, then they were not something one possessed, but something to be constantly guarded and reclaimed. ↗
I--" She swallowed, perhaps summoning her courage, then continued, "I would not lie to you and say that I did not want this." "Me," he cut in peevishly. "You wanted me." She closed her eyes. “Yes,” she finally said, “I wanted you.” Part of him wanted to interrupt again, to remind her that she still wanted him, that it wasn’t and would never be in the past. “But I can’t have you,” she said quietly, “and because of that, you can’t have me.” And then, to his complete astonishment, he asked, “What if I married you? ↗
#anne-wynter #daniel-smythe-smith #julia-quinn #smyth-smith-quartet #courage
An Irish Airman foresees his Death I Know that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate Those that I guard I do not love, My country is Kiltartan Cross, My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor, No likely end could bring them loss Or leave them happier than before. Nor law, nor duty bade me fight, Nor public man, nor cheering crowds, A lonely impulse of delight Drove to this tumult in the clouds; I balanced all, brought all to mind, The years to come seemed waste of breath, A waste of breath the years behind In balance with this life, this death. ↗
I, too, have felt that the war goes on and on. When my son, Ian, died at El Alamein-- side by side with... visitors offering their condolences, thinking to comfort me, said, "Life goes on." What nonsense, I thought, of course it doesn't. It's death that goes on; Ian is dead now and will be dead tomorrow and nexe year and forever. There's no end to that. But perhaps there will be an end to the sorrow of it. ↗
You deserve to die," I whisper, suddenly realizing Iv'e said the words aloud. "Excuse me?" "Nothing." "Not nothing. You just told me that I deserve to be maggot feed." "Not maggot feed, just-" "Dead!" "Forget it" "I don't know why I said that. Just daydreaming, I guess." "Daydreaming about my death?" "Forget it", I repeat. "Are you sure you aren't still mad that I wouldn't let you borrow my vintage fishnet leggings?" "More like I didn't want to borrow them, ↗
