Radu wondered if Kumal was capable of cruelty. He hoped so, actually. It gave him hope to think that men like Kumal were the same as everyone else – they simply chose to be better.
Arthur was building something new. Something good. Something truly noble. And it drew those who could find that nowhere else. That was why most of his knights came. They could not find the justice and fairness they longed to defend in their own countries.
He clapped delightedly and stood. “Here you are!” “Where are we?” Lada asked. “In my chambers!” “And who are you, to earn such esteem from the devil?” Radu elbowed her. The boy’s smile turned wicked. “Why, I am the son of the devil himself. Mehmed the Second, son of Murad.
Lada amused herself by lying on her back, throwing a knife straight up to try to snag an apple. Sometimes she did. Sometimes the knife came back down and nearly stabbed her. She was equally entertained by both outcomes.
You can’t stop what’s inside you. If you fight it, it’ll win. Figure out how to live with it, how to direct it instead of letting it drag you in its current. And only you can do that.
I won. That is all that matters.” With a scream, Lada twisted herself up and bit her father’s hand. “God’s wounds!” He dropped her on the floor. She tucked into a ball, rolled out of his reach, then crouched, baring her teeth at him. The nurse cringed, waiting for Vlad to fly into a rage and beat Lada. Or beat her for her failure to keep Lada tame and docile. Instead, he laughed. “My daughter is feral.
But there are many ways to be powerful. There is power in stillness. There is power in watching, waiting, saying the right thing at the right time to the right person. There is power in being a woman – oh yes, power in these bodies you gaze upon with derision.
There is no such thing as cheating. There is only winning or losing.
There’s another way out there, and no matter what, I’m going to find it. If I’m Slayer, my choice is to use everything I’ve been given to protect those I love and to protect those I’ll never even know.
Mehmed?” Radu called, his voice muffled and indistinct, as if Lada’s head were still underwater. She and Mehmed paused their mouth-to-mouth combat, and Lada realized her legs were wrapped around his waist, his hands around the backs of her thighs, their chests pressed together. She pushed him away, dropping beneath the water and swimming to the other side just as Radu appeared from the trees and jumped into the pool between them.
Being a Dracul had cost him so much. He had thought he was done paying for the blood that ran through his veins. But he would never be done. The price of being in his family was everything he held dear, taken from him over and over again. They were the dragons. The devils. There was no mercy in them or for them.
It had felt unavoidable at the time, but how many unavoidable choices of his had resulted in unforgivable consequences?
Everything had changed. And nothing had. She was still choosing Wallachia over them. Radu was still supporting Mehmed. And Mehmed was still demanding they both be his. The stakes had just gotten higher.
I do not want to imagine a world in which you are not you.
He was no longer a lost little boy in a strange new city. Now he was a lost man in a broken old city, and no amount of prayers and kindness could undo what had been done.
Because she, too, was grateful for who she was. She would not wish any part of herself away.
It is easier to build than to destroy.
She was tired of being in control all the time, tired of worrying, tired of waiting. Tired of making hard decisions and wondering if they were the right ones.
The more Radu knew the women around him, the more he wondered if any of them were not secretly terrifying.
I can. You were always ruthless about finding people to love you.