Here we go. Kerrick was as subtle as a thunderstorm.

Living with your decision must be hard. Nothing I or anyone can say will give you any peace. You must reconcile your actions in your heart.

My mind’s screaming went unvoiced. Logic grabbed the panic and wrestled it to the ground.

One, and two, and three, four, five. Keep fighting like this and you will die," Janco sang.

Life is like molten glass. It flows, it's flexible, it can be molded and shaped and...what do you say? Ah, yes. It holds vast potential. You have a number of uncertainties in your melt right now. But they will always be there in one form or another. Always. Unlike molten glass, life can't be fixed or frozen into a pretty vase and placed on a shelf to gather dust.

Do you really want to know why you lost?” I asked. “Do you really have an answer?” he countered. “You need to get off your horse and run with your men. You don’t have the stamina for a long fight. And find a lighter sword.” “But it was my uncle’s.” “You’re not your uncle.” “But I’m the King, and this is the King’s sword,” Cahil said. His brows creased together. He seemed confused. “So wear it to your coronation,” I said. “If you use it in battle, you’ll be wearing it to your funeral,” I said.

I'm glad you're here. We've had some...interesting developments." Leif groaned. "That's Yelena-speak for life-threatening danger.