Book: A cruel Prince. Page 2

Life is our only real thing. Our only coin. On it we can buy what we want.

Desire is a strange thing. Satisfied, it mutates. Having the Golden thread, we want to have and a gold needle.

You will not get from me. I will continue to challenge you and embarrass their audacity and rebellion. You constantly remind me that I am a mere mortal and you're a Prince of FAE. Okay, let me remind you what that means: you can lose a lot, and I have nothing to lose. In the end you can win, you can cast a spell on me, hurt me and humiliate, but I will see to it that you've lost all that I can take away from you. I promise you, and it's the least I can do.

"You're not a killer," said Madoc.
But now I feel that can be that can be lethal.

In the world of FAE screaming still that the bird singing is a common thing, not attract attention.

And still no regrets. Stepping off the edge, I just want fall.

Only fools do not fear what terrible.

Barely suppressed conflict does not bother but rather like almost as much as open war.

Everyone has something to lose.

Bone rot. And so are we. They are right. We Yard of worms. We - mortals. We can't wait forever, hoping they will allow us to do what we want.

I'm not trying to play in the tournament no worse than others. I want to win. Don't want to be his equal. In the shower I yearn to surpass them, to become the best.

I live with fear. I let him settle in my bones and not notice it.

- What tired, sweetie?
- From their own powerlessness.