Lira To Kill A Kingdom Quotes

How strange that instead of taking his heart, I'm hoping he takes mine.

I reach out my hand to pull her up, and the look Lira gives me is nothing short of poisonous. “Do you want me to chop it off?” she asks. I keep my hand hovering in the space between us. “Not particularly.” “Then get it out of my face.

If you get shot,” Lira says, “I’m going to treat you like you’re incapable of doing the simplest tasks.” She cradles her arms around her knees to keep out the cold. “See how you like it when I hold out my arm to help you walk, even though you’re not shot in the leg.” “I’d be flattered,” I say, “that you would look for an excuse just to hold my hand.” “Perhaps I’m just looking for an excuse to shoot you.

There is nothing in the world but pain and the rare moments that exist in between

She ascends from the ocean in a way that is nothing short of celestial. The water follows her in a throne, elevating her to the height of my ship. Ocean-soaked hair runs down the length of her body, and she retains the otherworldly glow that always seems to illuminate her moony skin. Only now she is something more than just a siren, or a girl masquerading as a pirate. She is a goddess.

She pulls me closer to her, her fingers held tight over mine, and together we dive.

Wars aren’t won by running,” Lira says. “You can’t win a war,” I tell her. “Someone else just loses.

Everything is a game to him. Loyalty is mockery and devotion is kinship in place of fear. He is a riddle, disguised as a ruler, able to laugh at the idea of disloyalty as though it would never be an option. I can't fathom such a thing.

No hay nada en el mundo salvo el dolor y los pocos momentos que existen en medio

Lira?” she asks. “What do they sing where you’re from?” For some reason, Lira finds this amusing. “Nothing you would appreciate.

Then Lira opens her eyes, and I see that only one is the blue I remember. And the other is pure hellfire.

In the pits of our souls—if I amuse myself with the notion that I have a soul—Elian and I aren't so different. Two kingdoms that come with responsibilities we each have trouble bearing. Him, the shackles of being pinned to one land and one life. Me, trapped in the confines of my mother's murderous legacy. And the ocean, calling out to us both. A song of freedom and longing.

You should pay less mind to fairy tales, Elian, or that's all you'll become." When he leaves, I think about whether that would be awful, or beautiful. Could it really be such a bad thing, to become a story whispered to children in the dead of night? A song they sing to one another while they play.

Su mano se mueve y siento una ausencia repentina. Y luego está en mi mejilla, sosteniendo mi rostro entre sus manos, acariciando mi labio con el pulgar. Se siente como lo peor que he hecho y lo mejor que he podido hacer, y lo extraño es que ambas cosas son lo mismo.

El dolor no siempre duele

Try not to breathe,” I tell Lira. “It might get stuck halfway out.” Lira flicks up her hood. “You should try not to talk then,” she retorts. “Nobody wants your words being preserved for eternity.” “They’re pearls of wisdom, actually.” I can barely see Lira’s eyes under the mass of dark fur from her coat, but the mirthless curl of her smile is ever-present. It lingers in calculated amusement as she considers what to say next. Readies to ricochet the next blow. Lira pulls a line of ice from her hair, artfully indifferent. “If that is what pearls are worth these days, I’ll make sure to invest in diamonds.” “Or gold,” I tell her smugly. “I hear it’s worth its weight.” Kye shakes the snow from his sword and scoffs. “Anytime you two want to stop making me feel nauseated, go right ahead.” “Are you jealous because I’m not flirting with you?” Madrid asks him, warming her finger on the trigger mechanism of her gun. “I don’t need you to flirt with me,” he says. “I already know you find me irresistible.” Madrid reholsters her gun. “It’s actually quite easy to resist you when you’re dressed like that.” Kye looks down at the sleek red coat fitted snugly to his lithe frame. The fur collar cuddles against his jaw and obscures the bottoms of his ears, making it seem as though he has no neck at all. He throws Madrid a smile. “Is it because you think I look sexier wearing nothing?” Torik lets out a withering sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. I’m not sure whether it’s from the hours we’ve gone without food or his inability to wear cutoffs in the biting cold, but his patience seems to be wearing thin. “I could swear that I’m on a life-and-death mission with a bunch of lusty kids,” he says. “Next thing I know, the lot of you will be writing love notes in rum bottles.” “Okay,” Madrid says. “Now I feel nauseated.” I laugh.

I don't need to face her to see that her eyes are burning through the air between us. Lira has a way of looking at people—of looking at me—that can be felt as much as it can be seen. If her eyes weren't such a surprising shade of blue, I would swear that they were nothing more than hot coals for the fire within.

The air is crisp on my skin, and though my hands are wrapped under thick gloves, I shove my fists into my pockets anyway. The wind penetrates here through every layer, including skin. I’m dressed in fur so thick that walking feels like an exertion. It slows me down more than I would like, and even though I know there’s no imminent threat of attack, I still don’t like being unprepared in case one comes. It shakes me more than the cold ever could. When I turn to Lira, the ends of her hair are white with frost. “Try not to breathe,” I tell her. “It might get stuck halfway out.” Lira flicks up her hood. “You should try not to talk then,” she retorts. “Nobody wants your words being preserved for eternity.” “They’re pearls of wisdom, actually.” I can barely see Lira’s eyes under the mass of dark fur from her coat, but the mirthless curl of her smile is ever-present. It lingers in calculated amusement as she considers what to say next. Readies to ricochet the next blow. Lira pulls a line of ice from her hair, artfully indifferent. “If that is what pearls are worth these days, I’ll make sure to invest in diamonds.” “Or gold,” I tell her smugly. “I hear it’s worth its weight.” Kye shakes the snow from his sword and scoffs. “Anytime you two want to stop making me feel nauseated, go right ahead.” “Are you jealous because I’m not flirting with you?” Madrid asks him, warming her finger on the trigger mechanism of her gun. “I don’t need you to flirt with me,” he says. “I already know you find me irresistible.” Madrid reholsters her gun. “It’s actually quite easy to resist you when you’re dressed like that.” Kye looks down at the sleek red coat fitted snugly to his lithe frame. The fur collar cuddles against his jaw and obscures the bottoms of his ears, making it seem as though he has no neck at all. He throws Madrid a smile. “Is it because you think I look sexier wearing nothing?” Torik lets out a withering sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. I’m not sure whether it’s from the hours we’ve gone without food or his inability to wear cutoffs in the biting cold, but his patience seems to be wearing thin. “I could swear that I’m on a life-and-death mission with a bunch of lusty kids,” he says. “Next thing I know, the lot of you will be writing love notes in rum bottles.” “Okay,” Madrid says. “Now I feel nauseated.

We continue on that way, swords arcing through the air, our breath ragged. Soon there’s sun in the distance, or perhaps even moonlight. Everything is muted and as Lira swoops her blade down on mine once more, I let it all fall away. My mission, my kingdom. The world. They exist somewhere other than in this moment, and now there is only this. Me, my ship, and a girl with oceans in her eyes.

Cualquier humano que se apodere del corazón de una sirena será inmune al poder de su canción. Solo que Elian no necesito tomar mi corazón: yo se lo entregue.

Hay un momento en que yace así -sus ojos aun cerrados, envuelta en la nieve que refleja su piel, nunca menos humana-, y yo me siento extrañamente en paz. Entonces Lira abre los ojos, y veo que solo uno es el azul que recuerdo. Y el otro es puro fuego del infierno.

Al principio, no estoy seguro de que es lo que pretendo hacer más allá de sostener el arma con tanta fuerza que se encaja hasta en mis huesos. Pero cuando Lira no se mueve, ni siquiera cuando avanzo cada vez más, solo se enciende la ira dentro de mí. La traición. Ella ni siquiera tiene la decencia de estremecerse. -Elian. Dice mi nombre en un suspiro y pierdo todos los sentidos. -Voy a matarte -digo.

La Perdición de los Príncipes. No hay nada más allá de esas cinco palabras. El mundo se aquieta y rebusco en mis recuerdos: una pista, un signo, un rastro. En lugar de encontrar solo vacío, lo que descubro es la idea de que soy un tonto.

-Tú crees que eres la Perdición de los Príncipes, pero eres la salvadora del príncipe. Permítenos ver, si queda alguna esperanza de redención en ti. Golpea la base del tridente contra el suelo, y siento un dolor como nada que pudiera haber imaginado. Mis huesos se quiebran y se realinean. La sangre brota de mi boca y oídos, derritiéndose a través de mi piel. Mis agallas. Mi aleta se divide, me desgarra justo por la mitad, partiéndome en dos. Las escamas que alguna vez brillaron como estrellas se rompen en solo un instante y debajo de mi pecho hay un golpeteo que nunca había sentido. Se siente como mil puños golpeando desde el interior. Me toco el pecho y clavo las uñas, tratando de sacar de mi lo que sea. Liberarlo. El ser atrapado dentro que tan desesperadamente golpea para ser liberado. Luego, en medio de todo, la voz de mi madre grita: -Si eres la poderosa Perdición de los Príncipes, entonces podrás robar el corazón de este príncipe incluso sin tu voz. Sin tu canción.

Lira coloca una mano sobre su cadera e intenta fingir que no se sienta cohibida, pero es el primer gesto verdadero que he visto en su rostro desde que nos conocimos. Puede lucir como una pirata, pero tiene un camino por recorrer antes de que pase por una. – Tienes que estar bromeando -dice Kye-. Le dije a Madrid que le diera una ducha, no que la vistiera como una princesa pirata.

-Si te disparan -dice Lira-, voy a tratarte como si fueras incapaz de hacer las tareas más simples -pone sus brazos alrededor de sus rodillas para protegerse del frio-. Ya veremos si te gusta cuando extienda mi brazo para ayudarte a caminar, aunque no te hayan disparado en la pierna. -Me sentiría halagado de que estuvieras buscando una excusa solo para tomar mi mano -digo. -Tal vez solo estoy buscando una excusa para dispararte.