The Heir and the Spare

Broken wings can heal, A bird is meant to fly

That’s hardly an answer.” “It wasn’t a very good question.

The world doesn't die with its leaders. It merely changes, and our best goals must be to steer it on an upward path, so that we leave it better than we found it, and so that it has ample chance to improve beyond our lifetime instead of falling into chaos without our steadying hand.

Is everything all right?” He asked. “No, but maybe it will be.

Across the distance, they appeared youthful and carefree, an innocent set of friends instead of a collection of monsters and tormenters.

When he looked back to Clervie, she gasped as though scandalized. “You would send me into a closed carriage with only men?” “I think they’d have more to fear than you do,

A king who kills his subordinates to keep his power over them has no power when they're dead.

No one deserved the rough-housing, or the ridicule, or that wretched yearly Hunt. If dignity can only earned by rank, then it's worthless.

In our darkest hours, in the worst of our conflicts, we looked to the artists and musicians for hope. Forgive me for contradicting you, Princess Lisenn, but disdain for the arts comes easily to those who have such things in abundance. When the world is soaked in blood and beauty is trampled to dust, those who can create it anew become the most valuable commodity of all.

Vain and arrogant,” she said, and the smile slipped. “You were always so vain and so arrogant. Was it because of your handsome face? Your high marks? Too coddled as a child, perhaps? Ninth in line for your crown was so far away. I was second for mine and I knew I’d never inherit, but you swaggered around the Royal College as if your coronation was imminent. How could someone be so vain?” He dismissed the cut, save for one detail. “You thought I was handsome?

Even so, Iona wouldn’t concede the worthiness of the match. Jaoven and Lisenn deserved to wed. Perhaps one would kill the other and inadvertently bless the world. At the very least, their union would spare any other prospective partners from a terrible fate.

Lisenn, true to her nature, played with ruthless efficiency veiled behind an engaging laugh,

What’s wrong?” he asked upon noticing his pacing prince. “Princess troubles,

They’re not false,” Jaoven snapped. “Just because we’re on our best behavior doesn’t mean it’s fake.

and she abandoned him to examine the inventory of a small bookshelf.

She experienced an odd pang of jealousy, that she had never outfitted herself with any similar precautions. But then, before today, she’d never believed Lisenn would actually try to kill her.

Thank you,” she quietly said. Jaoven paused, lifting huge eyes. “Are you dying?” She scowled. “What?” “Gratitude from the queen of ice? Let me feel your forehead. You must be deathly ill.

If Lisenn hears even a whisper of this plot, she’ll kill me.” “She already tried,” Aedan said. “Do you think you’re safe because you happened to survive?

.She would make his life miserable, eventually. And perhaps he would do the same to her. They were both pretending, after all.

Every muscle within her body itched for her to throw the instrument at his head. It would have been a waste of a good lute, though.

You artists have a shocking degree of compassion, even toward those who don’t deserve it.

Bina had dressed her in a dove-colored gown, the red embroidery on its sleeves and hem the only decoration that separated it from a mourning dress. Usually she avoided such a bright color, even in ornamentation and especially when she might cross paths with Lisenn. The gray of the dress itself could cause no complaint, but that red might earn her a few bruises. Or another attempt on her life. She didn’t know anymore.

If he had spent three or more years evading trained assassins and mercenaries, surely one fiend in a tiara didn’t pose a true threat.

Clervie grunted, amused. “‘Awkward’ doesn’t begin to describe the trouble we’re about to cause.

Her feet ached and the music threaded a painful throbbing into her brain, but she danced on.

Back home, a woman wearing red to someone else’s engagement announcement would start a scandal.” “Was that before or after the war?” Iona asked.

She shouldn’t have spoken to Jaoven. She shouldn’t have lost her temper. She should have told him the full and ugly truth, and simultaneously kept her mouth shut. There was no right answer.

The simple act of voicing her fears aloud helped her accept them.