He realised how much he hated tyrants, the strong who stood on the weak.

Yes, I'm sure [the princess] thinks daily of a delinquent midget apprentice growing up to claim her hand ahead of all the nobles and princes of the realm. What could any of them possibly give that you don't have, except titles, land, wealth and all that.

You!' Skeet bellowed.
When uttered with just the right tone, this is the universal name for any boy. Accordingly, all heads snapped towards the angry master.

Are you planning to kiss me?' Aedan asked.
'No.' Emroy wrinkled a pimply nose.
'Then why are you standing so close?' Aedan's tone was perfect innocence.

He could not afford to indulge misery, to live in the past and stumble through life facing backwards.

First, the wind would rumble in the distance like an approaching river, then he would see grass bend, pressed by a great invisible hand. The dull rumble would rise in pitch to a swishing, lashing exultation, causing stalks to lie flat against the ground while the tougher branches of shrubs held themselves up and shrieked their defiance in the gusts. Then the first drops, cold and heavy, would plummet from the sky and burst on the ground.