All right," Clara said. "We have our swordsman, so let's get moving. Brigan, could you attempt, at least, to make yourself presentable? I know this is a war, but the rest of us are trying to pretend it's a party.

I wish people would stop hitting Po," whispered Bitterblue. "Well," Giddon said. "Yes. I'm hoping Skye is following my model. Punch Po; go on a long trip; feel better; come back and make up.

Raff, what have you done to yourself? Your hair is positively blue.

And the kings were no better to their own people than they were to each others.

She crossed the room to him, put her arms around him, clung to him, turning her face to the side, learning all at once that it was awkward to show a person all of one's love when one's nose was broken.

There will be no yelling at people who are bleeding themselves to unconsciousness.

You’re crying.” “I’m not.” “Right,” he said mildly. “I suppose you got rained on.