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“She yawned, and Rowan rubbed his eyes, his other hand still in hers. But he didn't let go. And when she awoke before dawn, warm and safe and rested, Rowan was still holding her hand, clasped to his chest.”
― Heir of Fire
― Heir of Fire
“When my mate died, it took me a very, very long time to come back."
It took her a moment to think of what to say.
"How long?"
"Two hundred three years, twenty-seven days ago.”
― Heir of Fire
It took her a moment to think of what to say.
"How long?"
"Two hundred three years, twenty-seven days ago.”
― Heir of Fire
“She was not becoming anything different from what she always was and always had the capacity to be. You just finally saw everything. And once you saw that other part of her… You cannot pick and choose what parts of her to love. Just as you cannot pick which parts of me you accept.”
― Heir of Fire
― Heir of Fire
“It was a long story, and sometimes she grew quiet and cried - and during those times he leaned over to wipe away her tears.”
― Heir of Fire
― Heir of Fire
“That was when they noticed that every musician on the stage was wearing mourning black. That was when they shut up. And when the conductor raised his arms, it was not a symphony that filled the cavernous space.
It was the Song of Eyllwe.
Then Song of Fenharrow. And Melisande. And Terrasen. Each nation that had people in those labour camps.
And finally, not for pomp or triumph, but to mourn what they had become, they played the Song of Adarlan.
When the final note finished, the conductor turned to the crowd, the musicians standing with him. As one, they looked to the boxes, to all those jewels bought with the blood of a continent. And without a word, without a bow or another gesture, they walked off the stage.
The next morning, by royal decree, the theatre was shut down.
No one saw those musicians or their conductor again.”
― Heir of Fire
It was the Song of Eyllwe.
Then Song of Fenharrow. And Melisande. And Terrasen. Each nation that had people in those labour camps.
And finally, not for pomp or triumph, but to mourn what they had become, they played the Song of Adarlan.
When the final note finished, the conductor turned to the crowd, the musicians standing with him. As one, they looked to the boxes, to all those jewels bought with the blood of a continent. And without a word, without a bow or another gesture, they walked off the stage.
The next morning, by royal decree, the theatre was shut down.
No one saw those musicians or their conductor again.”
― Heir of Fire
Haylee’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Haylee’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
418 books
|
132 friends
366 books
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4,855 friends
260 books
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59 friends
605 books
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1,408 friends
261 books
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1,076 friends
238 books
|
1,841 friends
644 books
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121 friends
314 books
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2,446 friends
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