Maa Status Quotes

Ruhn Danaan, Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae. Son of the Autumn King and the current possessor of the Starsword, fabled dark blade of the ancient Starborn Fae. Proof of the prince’s Chosen One status among the Fae—whatever the Hel that meant.

She hadn't realised how many little pieces of herself existed, all constantly blaring their pains or status. How much noise it produced in her head.

Hunt, with his gray wings and common blood, despite his lightning, had never even been in the running. Being asked to join Shahar’s elite 18th had been privilege enough. He’d loved her almost instantly for seeing his worth—and Isaiah’s. All of the 18th had been like that: soldiers she’d selected not for their status, but their skills. Their true value.

It had been stamped on her arm within moments of her birth, Lehabah had said. SPQM. It was inked on the flesh of every sprite—fire or water or earth, it didn’t matter. Punishment for joining the angels’ rebellion two hundred years ago, when the sprites had dared protest their status as peregrini. As Lowers. The Asteri had gone even further than their enslavement and torture of the angels. They’d decreed after the rebellion that every sprite—not only the ones who’d joined Shahar and her legion—would be enslaved, and cast from the House of Sky and Breath. All of their descendants would be wanderers and slaves, too. Forever. It was one of the more spectacularly fucked episodes of the Republic’s history.

So we’re back to the animosity today?” “We are not back to anything. I’m your healer, and you are my patient, and I asked you about the status of your—” “If you’re not rested,” he said, as if it were the most rational thing in the world, “then I’m not letting you near me.” Yrene opened and closed her mouth. “And how you will decide that?” Slowly, his eyes swept over her. Every inch. Her heart thundered at the long look. The relentless focus. “Good color,” he said. “Good posture. Certainly good sass.” “I’m not some prize horse, as you said yesterday.” “Two days ago.” She braced her hands on her hips. “I’m fine. Now, how are you?” Each word was accentuated. Chaol’s eyes danced. “I’m feeling quite well, Yrene. Thank you for asking.

A dark-haired Fae male burst through the interrogation room door. Even with a silver hoop through his lower lip, even with one side of his long raven-black hair buzzed, even with the sleeves of tattoos beneath the leather jacket, there was no disguising the heritage the strikingly handsome face broadcasted. Ruhn Danaan, Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae. Son of the Autumn King and the current possessor of the Starsword, fabled dark blade of the ancient Starborn Fae. Proof of the prince’s Chosen One status among the Fae—whatever the Hel that meant.

And Sathia had refused to be left alone, even with the safety of her married status now granting her the right to move freely.