Across an Endless Sea (The Fifth Nicnevin, #2)

by Marie Mistry

In all my thirty-seven years, he’s only used it three times. The first, when I was very young, to ensure I never lied to him. The second, after I killed Bres, to ensure I never plotted to claim his throne for myself. And the third, before I left for the war, to stop me from returning home without the Nicnevin.

“You still haven’t told her you like her,” Lore butts in. “Maybe that would help.” Drystan freezes, then scrubs his hand down his face. “‘Like’ is not the word I’d use.” My heart sinks, but he continues. “You alone have the ability to frustrate me beyond measure. You are captivating—as I’m sure you’re aware—and infuriating. Far too soft-hearted for the task the Goddess has put before you, and yet…” He trails off, glancing at the others before shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “‘Like’ is too simple a term.”