In keeping with his cryptic nature, all your Story Weaver said was 'The horses know where to go.' It's certainly not a military strategy I would use, but I've learned that the south uses its own strategy. And, strangely enough, it works.

Your mother sounds like a formidable woman," Valek said into the silence."You have no idea," Leif replied with a sigh."Well, if she's anything like Yelena, my deepest sympathies," Valek teased."Hey!"Leif laughed and the tense moment dissipated.Valek handed Leif his machete. "Do you know how to use it?""Of course. I chopped Yelena's bow into firewood," Leif joked.

What have I earned from you, Valek? Loyalty? Respect? Trust?""You have my attention. But give me what I want, and you can have everything.

You're right. And so was my snake."Snake?"He pulled my arm out to expose my bracelet. "When I carved this my thoughts were on you, love. Your life is like this snake's coils. No matter how many turns it makes, you'll end up back where you belong. With me.

I want you to have this.” He extended his hand. On his palm sat the beautiful butterfly he had carved. Silver spots on the wings glinted in the sunlight, and a silver chain hung from a small hole drilled into its body.Valek looped the necklace around my neck. “When I carved this statue, I was thinking about you. Delicate in appearance, but with a strength unnoticed at first glance.” His eyes met mine.

Yelena.” I halted in the doorway, looking back over my shoulder.“You once said I wasn’t ready to believe your reason for killing Reyad. I’ll believe you now.”“But I’m not ready to tell you,” I said and left the room.

How did you—”“Fool your guards? They’re not very good. They forgot to check the ceiling for spiders.” Valek grinned. His angular face softened. Startled, I realized he wasn’t in disguise. “This is dangerous.”“I knew falling for you was dangerous, love.

Valek leaned back in his chair and said to me, “I don’t think I would have made it past the audition,Yelena. I probably would have set my hair on fire by this point.”“What’s a singed head for the sake of art?” I teased. He laughed.

I balled my hands into tight fists to keep them from wrapping around Mr. I-Know-Everything's superior neck.