He held Needle out to her, hilt first. “Here.”
She looked at the sword with wonder in her eyes. For a moment she was afraid to touch it, afraid that if she reached for it it would be snatched away again, but her father said, “Go on, it’s yours,” and she took it in her hand.
“I can keep it?” she said. “For true?”
“For true.” He smiled. “If I took it away, no doubt I’d find a morningstar hidden under your pillow within the fortnight.”
This book makes me laugh sometimes. When it’s not making me angry.
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