I loved the way that six-year-old Matilda could observe so much without always being able to make sense of what she saw. I felt for Frances and hoped that Elizabeth would be okay.
It was marvellous, a feast for the eyes, this complication of coloured tints, a perfect kaleidoscope of green, yellow, orange, violet, indigo, and blue; in one word, the whole palette of an enthusiastic colourist!
“‘You bear many names, and so I shall name you as well.’ Her hand rose to Celaena’s forehead and she drew an invisible mark. ‘I name you Elentiya.’ She kissed the assassin’s brow. “I give you this name to use with honor, to use when other names grow too heavy. I name you Elentiya, ‘Spirit That Could Not Be Broken.””