Moonspear by a route obscure and lonely

“I don’t know,” the boy said unhappily — not a prince, not a raven, not a warrior; just a scared, lonely, bedraggled boy. “Cursed is like…when bad things happen all around you — all the time — and they’re all your fault. It’s — you don’t even have to do anything, but the bad things’ll still happen just because you’re there. I mean me-you, not you-you.” He looked at her quizzically, wondering whether she could possibly understand. “Everyone I love,” he uttered more quietly, without diverting his gaze or fidgeting, “dies or leaves. My parents, two brothers, my sister — even Lucy.”

Lantern yellow eyes watched the girl searchingly. “I won’t love you, Lyra,” he promised staunchly, “and then you won’t be cursed.” It seemed like a pretty foolproof plan, all things considered.