When people have so much money that they can do anything, buy anything, be anything, then they start to look around for the things money can’t buy. Strength, courage, nobility... they see it in others. And they want it.

I’ve never known anyone like you,” he whispered. “Ever. Since that moment on the ship.” “The moment when I tried to kill you?” “No. The one when you put yourself at risk to help Charon, the man who’d put you in slave irons, in the middle of all that chaos and death. You are uncommon in your bravery, Fallon. You are stronger than any woman I’ve ever known.” He smiled ruefully. “And you seem determined to haunt my dreams.

You can’t choose someone else’s destiny for them, Kelley. And you shouldn’t let anyone choose yours.

With that kill, the watching crowd realized this wasn’t just a show designed to inflate auction prices, and they howled for more blood. The brigand’s, Elka’s, mine, it didn’t matter. It made my stomach turn. This was what the Romans thought of as entertainment? And they called us barbarians.

Maybe honor wasn’t always something won by a blade. I thought. And maybe it couldn’t be so easily stripped away, even in servitude.

Through the shimmering air, I looked on the face of the girl who had been called Ismene. She looked like she was sleeping. I searched my heart for a prayer to offer, but I did not know the gods the Lanista had spoken of. I only knew my own. So I formed a silent prayer for the dead girl I’d never known but in that moment felt a strange kinship with. “May the Morrigan keep your soul,” I whispered in my mind.

There’s one thing I’ve learned about mortals. They’re a lot more resilient and a whole bunch more resourceful than they usually give themselves credit for. Why else do you think the Fae have always had such a fascination with them? Why d’you think Auberon uses changelings to guard the Gate? Trolls are stronger, cheaper, more plentiful, and nobody cares if they get exploded or ripped to pieces. But he uses mortals. Because they’re full of hidden strengths.

A conversation with Mabh was like playing tag with a grizzly bear.

I knew there had to be more to honor than just one’s station in life. That’s what Sorcha had taught me: that actions meant more than accolades. That honor was something worth fighting for- and dying for- no matter what house you were born into.

Elka let out her breath in a low whistle. I had to grudgingly admit to myself that I was glad the Varini girl was still with me. In a way, she almost reminded me of my sister. Sharp-tongued and haughty, but good in a fight, at least.