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“And at last Finnikin understood why he had felt so sorrowful and silent these last few days. He knew how to be Finnikin of the Rock to Evanjalin of the Monts. But he had no idea who to be to Queen Isaboe.”
― Finnikin of the Rock
― Finnikin of the Rock
“Finnikin’s head was bent low over the horse and he kicked its flanks hard and Froi had never clutched the body of one who felt so much but it reminded him of the time when he had tried to take Evanjalin in the barn. Both times the touch of their bodies had burned him, but this time something entered his bloodstream. Planted a seed.”
― Finnikin of the Rock
― Finnikin of the Rock
“Does she belong to you, Finnikin?” Yata asked, her eyes piercing. “No,” he said after a moment. “But she belongs to my heart. I feel her absence strongly and it brings me . . . sorrow.”
― Finnikin of the Rock
― Finnikin of the Rock
“When I was eight years old,” the priest-king confessed, “I wanted to be a god.” The holy man looked around the ragged tent. “Perhaps this is my punishment, but between you and me, I do not believe that the desires of young boys cause catastrophic events. The actions of humans do.”
― Finnikin of the Rock
― Finnikin of the Rock
“Do you belong to the king?” he asked, his voice husky. She gently placed his hand against the beating pulse of her heart. Always, always it beat out of control, and he held his hand to it until he felt it perfectly match his. “Yes, Finnikin,” she said. “I belong to the king. I will always belong to him.” And there lay the bittersweet despair of what awaited them in the Valley.”
― Finnikin of the Rock
― Finnikin of the Rock
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