TITLE: Paladin's Grace
AUTHOR: T. Kingfisher
"Stephen’s god died on the longest day of the year…
Three years later, Stephen is a broken paladin, living only for the chance to be useful before he dies. But all that changes when he encounters a fugitive named Grace in an alley and witnesses an assassination attempt gone wrong. Now the pair must navigate a web of treachery, beset on all sides by spies and poisoners, while a cryptic killer stalks one step behind…
From the Hugo and Nebula Award winning author of Swordheart and The Twisted Ones comes a saga of murder, magic, and love on the far side of despair."
Delightful characters and original world building. Bloody entertaining. The most amusing romance fantasy novel I've ever read. I spent a great deal of time snickering into my blanket.
"Stephen opened his pack and pulled out his needles and a thick ball of yarn. Knitting socks was not a particularly glamorous hobby, but it filled the same mental need as the sword - careful work that held his attention and hopefully did not allow his mind to wander too far afield. Plus at the end, you got socks out of it, and no one appreciated good socks like a soldier."
" He blinked at her. "Ah... I assumed you would send someone to meet with Marguerite and Mistress Angelica." He felt a pang that he would not be seeing her, but this was a political matter and it needed someone reliable to handle it.
"I will," Beartongue, leaning back against the cushions. "I'm sending you."
He stared at her, but she'd closed her eyes and was pointedly ignoring him.
"Your holiness, you have diplomats, lawyers, priests..."
"I do," she said. "And a few paladins, too."
"But I am hardly qualified! I swing swords and look imposing. That's what I'm for."
"You also have a passing acquaintance with both these women. That qualifies you as much as anyone else."
"Here you go again," rumbled Istvhan. "How remarkably hare-hearted you've become. Do you need me to beat you a few times until you find your courage?"
"You and what army?"
Istvhan grinned. Stephen rubbed his hand over his face. Why did no one understand? He knitted socks and stood guard over things. He wasn't a diplomat. "