Golden Son (The Red Rising Trilogy, Book 2)

live for more.

You are a worm who thought himself a serpent just because you slither

There is no peace for great men.

“History is written by the victors.”

My heart does not make my brain a fool.

History is written by the victors.”

This place is sick. This empire broken. It eats its kings, its queens, as hungrily as it does the paupers who mill its earth.

He can’t say any more because I’m hugging him and crying. I sob and hold on to him, shaking, scaring him. He doesn’t move except to pat me on the head. All the weight falls from my shoulders. Someone knows. He knows and he’s here.

Through the thorns to the stars.”

Per aspera ad astra.”