City of Last Chances (The Tyrant Philosophers #1)

by Adrian Tchaikovsky

Behind closed doors, they were all factions and rivalries, and crippling self-esteem issues, just like everyone else.

“Sometimes all you have are embers,” Ivarn went on. Quietly, sombrely, so everyone had to lean in to hear him. “And then you have a choice. You let them turn to ash, and have no fire that night or ever, or you cup them in your hand and blow. And that can hurt. Hurt more than it seems to help. But the embers hold a little heat from your breathing on them. And perhaps whoever takes them up next will have more tinder. Sometimes, all you can do is keep breathing.”

And sometimes, simply letting some children spill their drinks and make a fuss is preferable to the tally of lost personnel and property damage that I currently have on my desk.