There's always another storm. It's the way the world works. Snowstorms, rainstorms, windstorms, sandstorms, and firestorms. Some are fierce and others are small. You have to deal with each one separately, but you need to keep an eye on whats brewing for tomorrow.

Ursan flourished the knife, threatening me. "Talk, or I'll start cutting off body parts." "Yours? Or mine?" I kept my voice steady despite my insides twisting into goo. "It's an important distinction.

She's the nicest person I know." Zila chewed on her lower lip. "Well, the second nicest. Avry's the first.

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.

Don't knock the power of a pest," Leif said. "Persistance and stubborness can be useful in many situations.

For the first time, I was the center of attention. Everyone watched me as if I were a bomb. Would I explode and cause a disaster or would I pop and cause a miracle?

The Queen Seeker was back!