Mare Red Queen Quotes

Not a god’s chosen, but a god’s cursed. That’s what we all are.

I'll make the other scream for you, Mare, every last one. Not just your parents. Not just your siblings. But every single one like you. I'm going to find them, and they will die with you in their thoughts, knowing this is the fate you have brought them. I am the king and you could've been my Red Queen. Now you are nothing.

Mare?" "Are you afraid, Maven?" "I am. I'm afraid of failing. I'm afraid of letting this opportunity pass us by. And I'm afraid of what happens if nothing in this world ever changes. That scares me more than dying.

Attend to your own fate, Mare Barrow.” “And that is?” “To rise. And rise alone.

I can't let the mistakes I've made bury me.

Mare of the Stilts died the day she fell onto a lightning shield. Mareena, the lost Silver princess, died in the Bowl of Bones. And I don’t know what new person opened her eyes on the Undertrain. I only know what she has been and what she has lost, and the weight of it is almost crushing.

You could have been my red queen.

When his flame falls, my lightning rises, and so on.

I don't like being your chess piece." "Everyone is someone else's pawn, Mare. whether we know it or not.

„Mare?“ The radio is in my hand before I can even think to ask for it. „I‘m here,“ I say, locking eyes with him across a canyon. „Is it too late?

In the palace, during my imprisonment, I learned that Maven had been made by his mother, formed into the monster he became. There is nothing on earth that can change him or what she did. But Cal was made too. All of us were made by someone else, and all of us have some thread of steel that nothing and no one can cut.

Lightning has no mercy.

Strange that she is both the anchor against the storm and the storm itself.

Maven stares after his fleeing brother. “He does not like to lose. And”—he lowers his voice, now so close to me I can see the tiny flecks of silver in his eyes—“neither do I. I won’t lose you, Mare. I won’t.” "You'll never lose me.

They beg to a Silver king, and spit upon Red queens.

I ache for my ability the way I ache for Mare, for Thomas, for who I was supposed to be.

Even without her lightning, Mare Barrow still manages to strike me through.

I'm a Silver, sir." "No you are not, Mare Barrow, and you must never forget it.

Yesterday he was a prince; today he is king. I thought he was my friend, my bethrothed, but now I know better.

I’m not leaving this place unless I leave behind his corpse—or mine.

I have lived that life already, in the mud, in the shadows, in a cell, in a silk dress. I will never submit again. I will never stop fighting.

I would prefer death to this cage, to the twisted obsession of a mad boy king.

Thank you,” I whisper. Words I never thought I would say to her. They unsettle us both.” “You want to thank me, Barrow?” she mutters, kicking away the last of my bindings. “Then keep your word. And let this fucking place burn.” (300)

Mare,” he whispers. “Choose me.” Choose a crown. Choose another king’s cage. Choose a betrayal to everything you’ve bled for. I find my thread of steel too. Thin but unbreakable. “I am in love with you, and I want you more than anything else in the world.” His words sound hollow coming from me. “Anything else in this world.” Slowly, my eyelids flutter open. He finds the spine to match my gaze. “Think what we could do together,” he murmurs, trying to pull me closer. My feet hold firm. “You know what you are to me. Without you, I have no one. I am alone. I have nothing left. Don’t leave me alone.” My breathing turns ragged. I kiss him for what could be, what might be, what will be—the last time. His lips feel strangely cold as we both turn to ice. “You aren’t alone.” The hope in his eyes cuts deeply. “You have your crown.

It’s not something you can control, Mare,” he replies, still standing so far away. “We can’t choose who we love. I wish, more than anything, that we could.” I feel cracked open. My skin still runs hot from Cal’s embrace, remembering the feel of him only moments ago. But in the deepest part of me, in spite of every fiber of my being, I think beyond the clearing, to ice-colored eyes, an empty promise, and a kiss aboard a boat.

The hottest fires burn blue, and his eyes are no exception

Another round," she goads, and holds out a hand for the cards. "I bet a week of laundry." Across from us, Cal stops his preparatory stretching to snort. "You think Mare does laundry?" "Do you, Your Highness?" I snap back, grinning. He just pretends not to hear me.

Heard you started smashing things again," he continues. "You have bad taste in China." (Mare)

Mother had to be careful with him, but in the end, it wasn't she who severed the last thread between us. It was Mare Barrow. My brilliant fool of a brother couldn't keep sight on all that was his, and what little was mine.

The fallen prince is exhausting. I don't know how Mare could stand him or his inability to choose a damned side-especially when there's only one side he can possibly pick.

Mare, don’t be such a brat all the time, and stop beating up that Warren boy.

Anyone can betray anyone!

Come forward, Mare." That is Maven's voice. Not Maven, but Maven. The boy I thought I knew. Gentle, tender. He keeps that voice stored away, ready to be used against me like a sword. It strikes me to my core, as he knows it will. In spite of myself, I feel the familiar longing for a boy who does not exist.

Anyone can betray anyone

Mare, I tried

Can I help you with something?" he asks. His lips twitch, fighting a losing battle against a wretched, playful grin. I try to look cross with him, if only to keep up appearances. "You're supposed to be training." "Worried I'm not getting enough exercise? I assure you, Mare," he says, winking, "we are." It makes sense. Farley and Shade have been inseparable for a long while. Still, I gasp aloud, and swat his arm. "Shade Barrow!" "Oh, come on, everyone knows. Not my fault you didn't figure it out.

For all his clever ideas, Maven has nothing to say to this. He just stares, his breath coming in tiny, scared puffs. I know the look on his face; I wear it every time I’m forced to say good-bye to someone. “It’s too bad we didn’t stay longer,” I murmur, looking out at the river. “I would have liked to die close to home.” Another breeze sends a curtain of my hair across my face but Maven brushes it away and pulls me close with startling ferocity. Oh. His kiss is not at all like his brother’s. Maven is more desperate, surprising himself as much as me. He knows I’m sinking fast, a stone dropping through the river. And he wants to drown with me. “I will fix this,” he murmurs against my lips. I have never seen his eyes so bright and sharp. “I won’t let them hurt you. You have my word.

What I would do, to myself or anyone else, for the chance to go back home? But no one is there. No one I care about. They're gone, protected, far away. Home is no longer the place we're from. Home is safe with them. I hope.

Lightning has no mercy. And neither do I.

You want to thank me, Barrow?" she mutters, kicking away the last of my bindings. "Then keep your word. And let this fucking place burn.

How many times does one wicked boy have to betray you people before you learn?

I cling to Cal, Kilorn, Shade, to saving all the newbloods I can, because I am afraid of waking up to emptiness, to a place where my friends and family are gone and I am nothing but a single bolt of lightning in the blackness of a lonely storm. If I am a sword, I am a sword made of glass, and I feel myself begin to shatter.

Her grip is strong as she shakes my hand; for once someone isn’t afraid I’ll break like glass. “Every happiness to you, Lady Mareena. I can see this one suits you.” She jerks her head toward Maven. “Not like fancy Samos,” she adds in a playful whisper. “She’ll make a sad queen, and you a happy princess, mark my words.” “Marked,

It's to bad we didn't stay longer", I murmur, looking out at the river. "I would have liked to die close to home.

He's hunting newbloods not to protect his throne but to hurt you. To find you. To make you come back to him." His fist clenches on his thigh. "Maven wants you more than anything else on this earth." Would that Maven were here now, so I could rip out his horrible, haunting eyes. "Well, he can't have me." I realize the consequences of this, and so does Cal. "Not even if it stops the killing? Not for the newbloods?" Tears bite my eyes. "I won't go back. For anyone." I expect his judgment, but instead he smiles and ducks his head. Ashamed of his own reaction, as I am of mine.

Why give him a choice at all? You said yourself, we need everyone we can get. If this Nix guy is half of what you are, we can’t afford to let him go.” The answer is so simple, and it cuts me to bone. “Because no one ever gave me a choice.

If there was ever a person begging for an elbow to the face, it is Evangeline Samos.

I can feel him slipping down not just the hall but a dark and twisted path. It makes me afraid for the boy who taught me how to dance

Cal: Thief! mare: WELL OBVIOUSLY

I stare at the polished metal, examining my reflection. The girl I see is both familiar and foreign, Mare, Mareena, the lightning girl, the Red Queen, and no one at all. She does not look afraid. She looks carved of stone, with severe features, hair braided tight to her head, and a tangle of scars on her neck. She is not seventeen, but ageless, Silver but not, Red but not, human—but not. A banner of the Scarlet Guard, a face on a wanted poster, a prince’s downfall, a thief... a killer. A doll who can take any form but her own.

Look through people,” I tell her, my voice muffled by the helmet. “Smile without kindness. No small talk, no court talk. Act as if you have a million secrets, and you’re the only one important enough to know them all.” She nods, taking this all in stride. After all, Cal and I have both instructed her on how to pass as Maven. This is merely a reminder, a last glance at the book before the test. “I’m not a fool,” she replies coldly, and I almost punch her in the jaw. She is not Maven rings in my head, louder than a bell. “I think you’ve got it,” Kilorn says as he stands. He grabs my arm, pulling me slightly away. “Mare nearly killed you.

My skin burs under Maven's gaze, with the memory of one stolen kiss. It was him who saved me from Evangeline. Cal who saved me from escaping and bringing more pain upon myself. Cal who saved me from conscription. I've been too busy trying to save others to notice how much Cal saves me. How much he loves me.

In the palace, during my imprisonment, I learned that Maven had been made by his mother, formed into the monster he became. There is nothing on earth that can change him or what she did. But Cal was made too. All of us were made by someone else, and all of us have some thread of steel that nothing and no one can cut. I thought Cal was immune to the corruptive temptation of power. How wrong I was. He was born to be a king. It's what he was made for. It's what he was made to want.

They’ve pulled me inside out, swapping Mare for Mareena, a thief for a crown, rags for silk, Red for Silver. This morning I was a servant, tonight I’m a princess. How much more will change? What else will I lose?

I'm a shadow, and no one remembers shadows." ---Mare Barrow

It’s not something you can control, Mare,” he replies, still standing so far away. “We can’t choose who we love. I wish, more than anything, that we could.

We can't choose who we love. I wish, more than anything, that we could.

You aren't alone." The hope in his eyes cuts deeply. "You have your crown.

I don't recognize Cal's voice anymore. I've turned him into a monster. I forced his hand. I made him choose. I was eager, I was stupid. I let myself hope. I am a fool. - Mare Barrow

I fear being alone more than anything else. So why do I do this? Why do I push away the people I love? What is so very wrong with me? I don't know. And I don't know how to make it stop.

We’ve taken everything from her, brother,” Maven murmurs, drawing close. “Surely we can give her this?” And then slowly, reluctantly, Cal nods and waves me into his room. Dizzy with excitement, I hurry inside, almost hopping from foot to foot. I’m going home. Maven lingers at the door, his smile fading a little when I leave his side. “You’re not coming.” It isn’t a question. He shakes his head. “You’ll have enough to worry about without me tagging along.” I don’t have to be a genius to see the truth in his words. But just because he isn’t coming doesn’t mean I will forget what he’s done for me already. Without thinking, I throw my arms around Maven. He doesn’t respond for a second, but slowly lets an arm drop around my shoulders. When I pull back, a silver blush paints his cheeks. I can feel my own blood run hot beneath my skin, pounding in my ears.

When I was Mare Barrow of the Stilts, I thought the same way. I wondered what would happen if I survived conscription, and saw what that future held. A friendly marriage to the fish boy with green eyes, children we could love, a poor stilt home. It seemed like a dream back then, an impossibility. And it still is. It always will be. I do not love Kilorn, not the way he wants me to. I never will.

Even one small thing can go right in a world so wrong ~ Mare Barrow

You lost your brother. Don’t take mine

I don’t like getting involved with other people’s business. I don’t have time for it. And yet here I am, listening to myself say four dooming words. “Leave everything to me.

Monsters are most dangerous when they are afraid.

The war never leaves.

I've come this come all this way and suddenly I'm back in the arena, watching Silvers display everything we are not.

Cal is a cliff and i throw myself over the edge - Mare Barrow

Didn’t want to overload you

His face turns to stone again, his eyes narrowed and icy, doing all they can to ignore what his heart wants to feel.

His opinion isn’t worth the rust on my fathers wheelchair

Lightning has no mercy

I'll make them scream for you Mare, every last one. Not just your parents. Not just your siblings but every single one like you. I will find them, and they will die with you in their thoughts knowing this is the fate you've brought them. I am king and you could have been my Red Queen. Now you are nothing.

Atenha-se ao seu destino, Mare Barrow. — Que é? — Se levantar. E se levantar sozinha. — As palavras ressoam como o uivo de um lobo. — Vejo o que você pode se tornar: não apenas um relâmpago, mas uma tempestade. A tempestade que vai engolir o mundo inteiro.

Now the question becomes finding the right Red, saying the right thing, finding the right place, and doing it all without anyone noticing the prince and his future princess communicating with a wanted terrorist.

I will never make the mistake of loving you ever again." "So you choose him?" That's all it ever was. Jealousy. Rivalry. All so shadow could defeat the flame. "Cal betrayed me, and I betrayed him. And you betrayed us both, in a thousand different ways. I choose no one.

I want to look back, but I have to walk away, to do what must be done, and forget what must be forgotten.

It's not something you can control, Mare," he replies, still standing so far away. "We can't choose who we love. I wish, more than anything. that we could.

My ignorance is becoming a theme." --Mare Barrow

She was murdered, and I said nothing. I was afraid, and I let her die in shame

Compórtate como si tuvieras un millón de secretos y como si fueras la única persona tan importante como para conocerlos todos.

Trust the vision, not the man. A good lesson to learn.

One conflict may end, but another will always begin.

The choke?" I exclaim, perplexed. Next to me, Cal tries his best to be civil. His best isn't very good. "Idiocy," he snaps. "The Choke has more Silvers than you know, each one instructed to arrest or kill you on sight. If you're lucky, they'll take you back to prison.

From the pilot's seat, Cal glowers. "He's done enough." He watches me take the chair next to him, seething all the while. "You really want to storm a secret prison built for people like us?" "Would you rather let Julian die?" No answer but for a low hiss. "That's what I thought.

I don't know why, but I'm reminded of something Julian taught me once, long ago. We destroy. It's the constant of our kind. I've seen that firsthand. In Archeon, in Harbor Bay, on every battlefield. In the way Reds were treated and are still treated across the continent. But that world is changing. We destroy, but we also rebuild.

Mare Barrow, you have been summoned to Summerton.” Gisa’s

One day your lies will strangle you, King Maven. My only regret is I won't be alive to see it.

If. I hate that stupid word.

―¿Cómo se siente? ―gruñe, casi a nariz con nariz conmigo―. ¿Cómo se siente ser utilizada, Mare Barrow?

If only I were still a child, and this were all a bad dream.

You opened your eyes, Mare. That’s all that matters.

―No le gusta perder. Y... ―Baja la voz, ahora tan cerca de mi que puedo ver las diminutas motas de plata en sus ojos―. Yo tampoco voy a perder, Mare. No lo haré. ―Nunca me vas a perder.

But still, you feel no remorse for the dead. You do whatever you can to forget them. You abandoned your family without a word. You can't control yourself. Hald the time you run away from leadership, and the other half you act like some untouchable martyr, crowned in guilt, the only person who's really giving herself to the cause. Look around you, Mare Barrow. Shade's not the only one who died in Corros. You are not the only one to make sacrifices. Farley betrayed her father. You forced Cameron to join us against her will, you chose to ignore everything but Julian's list, and now you want to abandon the kids back at the Notch. For what? To step on the Colonel's neck? To take a throne? To kill anyone who looks at you the wrong way?

I've done things, terrible things, and I don't deserve forgiveness for them. But I see it in Julian's eyes all the same. And it fills me with such hope. I will not become a monster, no matter what I must do in the days ahead. I will not lose who I am, even if it kills me.

O frio nunca me deixa. Ele nunca vai embora, e é pior do que qualquer outro fardo. O frio é vazio e devora as minhas entranhas. Espalha-se como podridão, como doença, e um dia temo que me deixe vazia. Então serei apenas a casca da garota elétrica, o cadáver animado de Mare Barrow.

I draw myself up next to her and look at her profile, making no effort to disguise my attention, here, where there is only Puck to see me. The evening sun loves her throat and her cheekbones. Her hair the color of cliff grass rises and falls over her face in the breeze. Her expression is less ferocious than usual, less guarded. I say, “Are you afraid?” Her eyes are far away on the horizon line, out to the west where the sun has gone but the glow remains. Somewhere out there are my capaill uisce, George Holly’s America, every gallon of water that every ship rides on. Puck doesn’t look away from the orange glow at the end of the world. “Tell me what it’s like. The race.” What it’s like is a battle. A mess of horses and men and blood. The fastest and strongest of what is left from two weeks of preparation on the sand. It’s the surf in your face, the deadly magic of November on your skin, the Scorpio drums in the place of your heartbeat. It’s speed, if you’re lucky. It’s life and it’s death or it’s both and there’s nothing like it. Once upon a time, this moment — this last light of evening the day before the race — was the best moment of the year for me. The anticipation of the game to come. But that was when all I had to lose was my life. “There’s no one braver than you on that beach.” Her voice is dismissive. “That doesn’t matter.” “It does. I meant what I said at the festival. This island cares nothing for love but it favors the brave.” Now she looks at me. She’s fierce and red, indestructible and changeable, everything that makes Thisby what it is. She asks, “Do you feel brave?” The mare goddess had told me to make another wish. It feels thin as a thread to me now, that gift of a wish. I remember the years when it felt like a promise. “I don’t know what I feel, Puck.” Puck unfolds her arms just enough to keep her balance as she leans to me, and when we kiss, she closes her eyes. She draws back and looks into my face. I have not moved, and she barely has, but the world feels strange beneath me. “Tell me what to wish for,” I say. “Tell me what to ask the sea for.” “To be happy. Happiness.” I close my eyes. My mind is full of Corr, of the ocean, of Puck Connolly’s lips on mine. “I don’t think such a thing is had on Thisby. And if it is, I don’t know how you would keep it.” The breeze blows across my closed eyelids, scented with brine and rain and winter. I can hear the ocean rocking against the island, a constant lullaby. Puck’s voice is in my ear; her breath warms my neck inside my jacket collar. “You whisper to it. What it needs to hear. Isn’t that what you said?” I tilt my head so that her mouth is on my skin. The kiss is cold where the wind blows across my cheek. Her forehead rests against my hair. I open my eyes, and the sun has gone. I feel as if the ocean is inside me, wild and uncertain. “That’s what I said. What do I need to hear?” Puck whispers, “That tomorrow we’ll rule the Scorpio Races as king and queen of Skarmouth and I’ll save the house and you’ll have your stallion. Dove will eat golden oats for the rest of her days and you will terrorize the races each year and people will come from every island in the world to find out how it is you get horses to listen to you. The piebald will carry Mutt Malvern into the sea and Gabriel will decide to stay on the island. I will have a farm and you will bring me bread for dinner.” I say, “That is what I needed to hear.” “Do you know what to wish for now?” I swallow. I have no wishing-shell to throw into the sea when I say it, but I know that the ocean hears me nonetheless. “To get what I need.

En una sociedad dividida por el color de la sangre, los Rojos luchan por sobrevivir bajo la sombra de los Plateados, «superhumanos» con poderes terribles que les permiten manejar el mundo a su antojo. Pero cuando se revela que Mare Barrow —una joven ladronzuela Roja— tiene también esas habilidades, es llevada al mundo de los Plateados. Allí descubrirá que el poder es un juego peligroso y que la única certeza es la traición.

To my horror, one of her shadowy guards steps forward. The red rag around his face doesn’t hide the set of his broad shoulders or the ratty shirt I’ve seen a thousand times. But the steely look in his eyes, the determination of a man twice his age, is something I don’t recognize at all. Kilorn looks years away already. Scarlet Guard to the bone, willing to fight and die for the cause. He’s Red as the dawn. “No,” I whisper, drawing back from Farley. Now I can only see Kilorn running full speed toward his doom. “You know what happened to Shade. You can’t do this.” He pulls away the rag and reaches out to embrace me, but I step away. His touch feels like a betrayal. “Mare, you don’t have to keep trying to save me.” “I will as long as you won’t.