**** 4 Dusho stars ****
"Soldier, slave, thief, healer. Just words." He [Boro] reached across the table and pressed their entwined hands to Faris's chest. "None of them tell us what's in here--who a man truly is. And you, truly, are no thief."
This was such a great story, beautiful written by Fielding. I loved the world build and the characters. It was also perfectly balanced so it wasn't too harsh, or too bad if the blurb or the cover makes you hesitant to read it.
"Why would you do this for a slave? " Boro asked.
"I do this for an injured man. Whether he wears a collar--or used to wear one--makes no difference to my remedies."
"(...)you can rest while I heat some water. You can bathe, if you like."
"I'd rather watch you."
It was as if the pain from those lash marks had lingered all these years, wearing into Faris, body and soul. Yet each kiss eased a little more the pain away, like a soothing poultice on battered skin.
(...) like a stone falling off a cliff and shattering to dust, and every particle of that dust reveling in its freedom.
Now THAT is beautiful writing right there!
...he realized that scars might also be badges of honor. Scars might say to the world, Look what was done to me. And yet I am strong--I survived.
For those brief seconds, he hadn't been an orphan who wore rags and slept in an alley. He was a bird, a wind spirit, a dream.
But he'd always fallen back to earth.
Oh, poor Faris... *sniff*
I guess you are a thief after all, dusho. You've stolen me for good.
"I'm flying already, dusho."
That was great!