More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Today was Ildiko’s wedding day, and if she managed not to retch on herself or a guest, she’d consider the entire event a resounding success.
You might have a face to turn my hair white, but your honesty is handsome.”
There was madness in memory, especially when the memory wasn’t yours.
“They are only serpents, Ildiko. Crush them beneath your heel.”
“I will conquer kingdoms for you if you but ask it of me, Ildiko.”
“Prince of night, you’ve come back to me—your head intact.”
If horses traveled as fast as gossip, they’d blow their riders clear off their backs.
He saw her as she’d always seen herself—as simply Ildiko. For her, it was enough; for him, a gift beyond price.
“That’s us, you know,” she said. “What is us?” “The scarpatine and the potato. Better together than alone. At least I think so.” One of Brishen’s eyebrows slid upward. “I thought we were hag and dead eel. I think I like those comparisons more.”
She hadn’t chosen this husband of hers, nor had he chosen her, but fate or kind gods had brought them together, made them friends and then lovers.
“And what do you think of your dead eel in the daylight?” Ildiko brushed a feathery strand of his hair away from his eyes. “He pleases me greatly. The handsomest of eels.” His high cheekbones angled sharply under her palms. “So says this hag.” “Who is most beautiful in the darkness.”
“We’re bound to each other by blood and secrets.
“Woman of day,” he said slowly. “You mean everything to me.”
