The Price of Spring (Long Price Quartet, #4)

by Daniel Abraham

“We’re all born to die, Most High,” Idaan said, the title sounding like an endearment in her voice. “Every love ends in parting or death. Every nation ends and every empire. Every baby born was going to die, given enough time. If being fated for destruction were enough to take the joy out of things, we’d slaughter children fresh from the womb. But we don’t. We wrap them in warm cloth and we sing to them and feed them milk as if it might all go on forever.”