The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss

“‘The story will take three days,’ Kote interrupted. ‘Starting tomorrow. That is what I am saying.’

Chronicler closed his eyes and ran his hand over his face. The earl would be furious, of course. No telling what it might take to get back in his good graces. Still…’If that’s the only way that I can get it, I accept.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’ The innkeeper relaxed into a half smile. ‘Come now, is three days really so unusual?’

Chronicler’s serious expression returned. ‘Three days is quite unusual. But then again – ‘ Some of the self-importance seemed to leak out of him. ‘Then again,’ he made a gesture as if to show how useless words were. ‘You are Kvothe.’

The man who called himself Kote looked up from behind his bottles. A full-lipped smile played about his mouth. A spark was kindling behind his eyes. He seemed taller.

‘Yes. I suppose I am,’ Kvothe said, and his voice had iron in it.”

 

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