All This Twisted Glory (This Woven Kingdom, #3)

by Tahereh Mafi

OF COURSE CYRUS KNEW HE was being followed. She possessed all the subtlety of a dragon in slumber. As if she could draw near him without his knowledge—as if he couldn’t hear the dragging hem of his borrowed cloak on her body. It was torture enough to imagine her wearing his clothes, but it was an altogether different torment to envision her determined stride, her furrowed brow, the slight pout to her lips that appeared only when she was thinking too much. The resolve with which she pursued him now—as if she had any idea what she was doing—was so endearing it angered him. For as long as he lived he feared he’d know the scent of her, the sound of her walking toward him. She was a fool to think otherwise. He was a fool to think of her at all.