A Power Unbound (The Last Binding, #3)

by Freya Marske

“But it turns out,” said Edwin, “there are people in the world who don’t think that spending time together also means fighting over every little thing.” That was a direct stab, neatly under a rib. Jack had always enjoyed a good fight and the challenge of trading insults. He’d grown up knowing himself loved; either there was affection behind an insult, or it simply didn’t occur to him to take it seriously, because he’d never bothered to believe anything bad about himself. For a long time he’d assumed, as children did, that his experience was the only one. That everyone else also treated conflict as a game. The best and most personal cut won, but none of it meant anything.

“If this gala is to be a disaster, at least nobody will be able to say it wasn’t a beautiful one.”

A true interest in someone was a sort of kindness.

“But most women in my neighbourhood are practically minded and strong like that. You make do with what you have.” “Is your mother the same?” Alan chewed his lip. “Used to be,” he admitted. “Less so now. She spent so much of herself keeping us alive when my pa died, before I could pull my weight. There’s only so much fight in a person. If it never lets up, if they can never rest—it gets squeezed out of them, forever.”