“You’re going to have to learn to ride a horse on your own, Phaedra', he said. 'It will make the journey faster.''The mule and I have an agreement.''The mule and you have similar traits.”

“Oh, you're one of those,' the princess said.'One of what?''One of those who needs to be told their worth over and over by others. Do you know who tells me my worth, Phaedra of Alonso?'The princess pointed a hard finger at her own chest. 'Me. I determine my own worth. If I had to rely on others I'd have lain down and died waiting.”

“He took her face in his bloody hands. "I’ll come and find you wherever you are. I’ll not stop breathing until I do. So you’re going to have to promise me that you won’t lose hope. That you will keep yourself alive.”

“Phaedra of Alonso’s death was a never-ending pain that gnawed at his insides. It made him a prisoner in his own cottage.”

“I just want it to go back to the way it was.""It'll never go back to the way it was, Frankie. But you have to make sure it goes forward.”

“Finn, listen!" Trevanion said, his voice raw. "I prayed to see you one more time. It's all I prayed for. Nothing more. And my prayers were answered. Go east, I'll lead them west.""We have a dilemma, then," Finnikin said fiercely. "Because I prayed that you would grow old and hold my children in your arms as you held me. My prayers have not been answered yet, Trevanion. So whose prayer is more worthy? Yours or mine?”

“If she’s out here and not locked up in the barracks, I’ll know,” he said. He took a deep breath and whistled.“You share a whistle?” Trevanion said in disbelief.“Do you have a problem with that?” Finnikin asked.“I have a few whistles,” Lucian murmured. “Very confusing sometimes.”“Whistles are meant for combat,” Trevanion said. “Not wooing women. Women do not understand whistles.”