Queen of Shadows (Throne of Glass, #4)

by Sarah J. Maas

Everything was an effort not to say she was sorry. Sorry not for what she’d done to his face, but for the fact that her heart was healed—still fractured in spots, but healed—and he … he was not in it. Not as he’d once been.

“When you shatter the chains of this world and forge the next, remember that art is as vital as food to a kingdom. Without it, a kingdom is nothing, and will be forgotten by time. I have amassed enough money in my miserable life to not need any more—so you will understand me clearly when I say that wherever you set your throne, no matter how long it takes, I will come to you, and I will bring music and dancing.”

“Only slaughtering men like pigs, correct?” “Their deaths equate to their behavior in life,”

The demon had taken control of the body completely. He’d let him, after that woman with the familiar eyes had failed to kill him.

“You can call me Rowan. That’s all you need to know.” He cocked his head to the side, a predator assessing prey. “Thank you for the oil,” he added. “My skin was a little dry.” Arobynn blinked—as much surprise as he’d show.

hehe petty

He didn’t mind that she’d gotten that glimpse into him. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t care what she knew about him, so long as it didn’t scare her away—and would have told her before if he still hadn’t been so stupidly distracted by how she looked tonight.

Of course I like luxury—you think I don’t love these gowns and jewels? But in the end … they’re replaceable. I’ve come to value the people in my life more.” “Evangeline is lucky to have you.” “I wasn’t just talking about her,” Lysandra said, and she chewed on her full lip. “You—I’m grateful for you.”

She’d forgotten the name she’d been given, but it made no difference. She had only one name now: Death, devourer of worlds.

damn kaltain.....

“I just wanted to end it for him. You were right—all this time, you were right. But I wanted to do it myself. I didn’t know it would … I’m sorry.”

A monster, he’d called her weeks ago. He had believed it, and allowed it to be a shield against the bitter tang of disappointment and sorrow. He was a fool.

“What if we go on,” he said, “only to more pain and despair? What if we go on, only to find a horrible end waiting for us?” Aelin looked northward, as if she could see all the way to Terrasen. “Then it is not the end.”