The Queen of Blood

Whether you made your choices with your eyes open or closed, they’re made. It’s not time to regret them; it’s time to live with the consequences.

Daleina would not be kept from her fate. She’d run toward it, arms open, and kick fate in the face.

Don't trust the fire, for it will burn you. Don't trust the ice, for it will freeze you. Don't trust the water, for it will drown you. Don't trust the air, for it will choke you. Don't trust the earth, for it will bury you. Don't trust the trees, for they will rip you, rend you, tear you, kill you dead.

Champion Ven knelt in the ruins of the village. Sifting through the rubble, he lifted out a broken doll, its pink dress streaked with dirt and its pottery face cracked. There was always a broken doll. Why did there always have to be a damn doll?

Straight-faced, Hamon said, "I'm honored to be working alongside someone with such expert woodland knowledge, superior battle skills, and an impressive beard." Ven stroked his beard. "Indeed you are.

Courtiers were supposed to sound musical when they spoke, their laughter like a harp chord and their sneezes like notes on a flute,

Coming home is hard." Ven said. "It shouldn't be" Daleina said. "They love me. I love them. It should be easy." "Once you leave, it's never easy again. Or at least it's never the same. You're not the same. You can't expect them to be. She nodded. "Sometimes they feel like strangers. And still, I'd die to protect them.