Queen of Shadows (Throne of Glass, #4)

by Sarah J. Maas

“Give our king the performance he deserves.”

Behind them, across the hall, the dancers shattered their roses on the floor, and Aedion grinned at his queen as the entire world went to hell.

“A crippled leg and a few chains, and you’re in love?”

Stones were eternal—flowers were not.

Even Common Sense was at a loss for words.

“Whatever my queen wants.” Oh, please.

“Vain until the bitter end.”

The clothes Sam would have wanted her to wear reminded her of life.

“Do you believe monsters are born, or made?”

“Don’t forget your cloak. You’d feel rather guilty when all those poor mortal women combust at the sight of you.” “I’d say likewise, but I think you’d enjoy seeing men bursting into flames as you strutted by.”

“Remind me to tell you tomorrow how charming you are.”

“Thank you for the oil,” he added. “My skin was a little dry.”

I’d hate for you to get bored.

If she hadn’t been so foolish, so stupidly unaware, maybe she would have realized that, understood that though she’d seen his eyes shine with hunger—hunger for her—it didn’t mean he wanted to act on it. Didn’t mean he might not hate himself for it.

“I hear hell is particularly nice at this time of year.”

“I hope the dark god finds a special place for you in his realm,”

Let me share this burden.”

“And what could I ever ask of you that I couldn’t do myself?” “That’s the problem. Yes, you can do most things on your own. That doesn’t mean you have to.” “Why should I risk your life?” The words were clipped. Ah. Ah. “Because I’m still more expendable than you are.” “Not to me.”

“It’s hard,” she admitted. “To let go of the control.”

“When we get back,” he said, “remind me to prove you wrong about every thought that just went through your head.”

But perhaps the monsters needed to look out for each other every now and then.

“You make me proud to serve you.”

“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.”

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t deserve. Don’t tell me about tomorrow, or the future, or any of it.”

“Tell me that even if I lead us all to ruin, we’ll burn in hell together.” “We’re not going to

“Again,”

So that smile … It struck him stupid every time he saw it and realized it was for him.

“You make me want to live, Rowan. Not survive; not exist. Live.”

We are the masters of our own fates—we decide how to go forward.”