I've never created a riot before. I did cause a brawl at the last formal. A large number of young women there actually arrived with the expectation of seducing me into matrimony, and a couple of their mothers came to blows. It was hilari—I mean, dreadful. Simply dreadful.

She handed him a glass of water and two Aleve gelcaps. “They’re anti-inflammatories. They will dull the pain a little bit and keep down swelling and redness. Swallow the pills, don’t chew.”“Well, I thought I’d stick them into my nose and impersonate a walrus, but if you insist, I’ll swallow them.

Give me a few minutes.”“You have time.” He sat in the grass.“Are you just going to sit there and watch me?”“Yes. Watching pretty peasant girls is what we poor little rich boys do best.”“Peasant?”He shrugged. “You started the name calling.

Our standard rate. A doubloon a day."It was generous. More than generous--some families would put him up for a week for a single coin."Half a doubloon a day," she said."No, you see, the idea behind bargaining is that you ask for a larger amount.

Grandpa?" Declan raised his eyebrows."We keep him in the shed out back," Jack said helpfully. "So he doesn't eat dog brains.

How are you?""Perfectly fine," he said."Are your ribs broken?""Probably not. Cracked at most. We fought very carefully.""Did this settle anything?""It made me feel better," he said, sitting up. "Did you see me kick him in the kidneys?""I saw.

It became known that I had a rather fertile imagination, when it came to private activities."She stared. "What sort of private activities?"This time he did smile, and it turned his face wicked. "Disrobe, and I'll be happy to demonstrate.

So, regarding that tidbit about your having a fertile imagination when it comes to private activities," she said, fighting off anxiety. "Was it another lie?""Depends on how you look at it. It's not exactly a lie, and if you come with me to the Weird, you'll find that rumors of my 'creativity' when it comes to bed games with the opposite sex do exist. I started them myself and managed them very carefully. The trick with rumors is to feed them once in a while, so they don't die.

Rose pictured him standing at the boundary of the Ogletree house in that enormous fur cape, with a giant sword sticking over his shoulder, roaring at the top of his lungs and then being upset that nobody came out, and laughed.