Troll Queen (Elven Alliance, #4)

by Tara Grayce

Yet, a part of him wasn’t entirely sure he regretted it. And that tore straight through his chest. Honor was supposed to be a clear path to follow. Something was either dishonorable or it was not. There should not be a muddy area in between.

After crying on Rheva’s shoulder that morning, she should have been all cried out. But it turned out tears had a way of replenishing just when they weren’t wanted.

“It is not weakness to accept help. If a warrior returned from battle missing a leg, you would not tell him that he should be tough enough to walk without the help of a crutch. He needs that crutch to restore what he lost and help him live his life. This”—Taranath tapped one of the jars—“is your crutch. Your wound from the war is to your mind, but that does not make it less real. Maybe someday you will be able to wean off the medicine, as you did before. Maybe not. But, for now, this is what you need to function.”

Honor without compassion was meaningless. Duty without love was nothing. War without the purpose of peace was just empty bloodshed.

“My magic is beautiful, but you are far more beautiful.” “Flatterer.”

Julien leaned over and smacked Averett’s shoulder. “You are drunk on being right. It’s making you talk grandiose nonsense.”

There probably wasn’t a whole lot of difference between a job in customer service or the role of princess. Both involved a lot of smiling even when people were being downright unreasonable.

“Did anyone ever tell you about the time Farrendel went through a climbing phase when he was a child?” “Only a phase?”