I gave myself a little chuckle while I was writing War for the North yesterday (now testing the title The Longest Shadow instead). I came this close to writing a ‘your face’ joke and I had to share.
Finneas peered at the woman, making no effort to disguise his scrutinising gaze. Subtlety had never been his strong point in the face of commoners.
“What do you suppose happened to her face?”
“Well whatever it was, I know you won’t be happening to her face.”
“She’s far too skinny,” Finneas said. “All skin and sinew by the look of it. Not a whore at any rate. Not with that face.”
Arwell was about to make a remark about Finneas’ own face when Prince Marle stalked into the throne room. The crowd knelt before him as he made his way to the throne, his expression one of perpetual irritation.
© Jessica Wiles, 2013