The Wicked King (The Folk of the Air, #2)

by Holly Black

Fighting was chess, anticipating the move of one’s opponent and countering it before one got hit.

“Power is much easier to acquire than it is to hold on to.”

“For a moment,” he says, “I wondered if it wasn’t you shooting bolts at me.” I make a face at him. “And what made you decide it wasn’t?” He grins up at me. “They missed.”

“I wasn’t kind, Jude. Not to many people. Not to you. I wasn’t sure if I wanted you or if I wanted you gone from my sight so that I would stop feeling as I did, which made me even more unkind. But when you were gone—truly gone beneath the waves—I hated myself as I never have before.”

“Sweet Jude. You are my dearest punishment.”

“She didn’t have to command me, Jude. She didn’t have to use any magic. I trust you. I trusted you.”