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" The gelding held still when he took the reins, swung nimbly onto the horse’s wide back and patted its withers. “You’ve grown fat on plains grass, Gnat. This journey will do you good.”
Martise’s eyes widened. “Gnat? His name is Gnat?” She stared at the mountain of horseflesh, heavily muscled and big-boned, with a girth that would make riding astride a challenge, and he stood at least seventeen hands high.
Gnat swung his large head in her direction, as if questioning her incredulity. Silhara stared down his nose, the expression made even more imperious by his high seat on the horse’s back. “I didn’t think ‘Butterfly’ suitable.”
A betraying flutter rose in her throat. “No,” she said, eyes tearing with the effort to hold in her laughter. “I suppose not. "
― Grace Draven , Master of Crows (Master of Crows, #1)
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" Martise had remained silent since first entering his domain, offering no hint of her character. If he refused her, it would alarm the priests even more.
“Martise of Asher.” He smiled when she stiffened. “His Grace has spoken for you during this entire meeting. Have you no words? Or did you suffer as my servant and have your tongue cut out?”
He followed her gaze to Gurn. The servant gave her an encouraging nod. Silhara might have considered her easily intimidated, save for that calm demeanor.
“No, sir, I’m no mute. It is rude to speak out of turn, is it not?”
He stilled at her question. Bursin’s wings, what generous god blessed this woman with such a voice? Refined and sensual, it possessed a silky quality, as if she physically caressed him.
The contrast between her dulcet tones and bland appearance startled him. Before she spoke, Martise had faded into her surroundings, forgotten. Now she shone, riveting the attention of anyone within hearing distance. He glanced at Cumbria who treated him to a smug smile.
He didn’t like being caught off guard and lashed out. “Far be it from me that I compromise the deportment of a lady. I wouldn’t tempt a well-trained dog into forgetting the commands of ‘Fetch’ and ‘Sit’.”
Her jaw tightened. She dropped her gaze, but not before he saw the sparks of anger in her eyes. Not so docile as one might first believe, yet his new apprentice exercised admirable control over her emotions. Behavior of a long-time servant. Cumbria had indeed brought him a spy. "
― Grace Draven , Master of Crows (Master of Crows, #1)
