A king who’s innocent of the things of which he’s guilty?

Go safely. Go safely, she thought to him. what a silly, empty thing it was to say to anyone, anywhere.

My life is an apology for the life of my father.

You cannot measure love by a scale of degrees.

I push everyone I love away." He shrugged. "I don't mind you pushing me away if it means you love me, little sister.

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.

Fire supposed he needed to be there in order to give rousing speeches and lead the charge into the fray, or whatever is was commanders did in wartime. She resented his competence at something so tragic and senseless. She wished he, or somebody, would throw down his sword and say, 'Enough! This is a silly way to decide who's in charge!' And it seemed to her, as the beds in the healing room filled and emptied and filled, that these battles didn't leave much to be in charge of. The kingdom was already broken, and this war was tearing the broken pieces smaller.