“Her eyes were dark. Dark as chocolate, dark as coffee, dark as the polished wood of my father’s lute. They were set in a fair face, oval. Like a teardrop. Her easy smile could stop a man’s heart. Her lips… — Kvothe in written by Patrick Rothfuss Copy Share Image
“Her eyes were dark. Dark as chocolate, dark as coffee, dark as the polished wood of my father’s lute. They were set in a… — Kvothe in written by Patrick Rothfuss Copy Share Image
