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The disturbing thing about Cardan is how well he plays the fool to disguise his own cleverness.
She’s good at picking out clothes to send a certain message—even if the message of her drawings appears to be “stay away from me or I will chop off your head”—and
He takes my hand. “Nothing is sweeter,” he says, kissing the back of it, “but that which is scarce.”
“You believe I planned your humiliation?” He laughs. “Me? That sounds like work.”
If it wasn’t for her, I would punch him right in the face.
I like him better than I’ve ever liked anyone and that of all the things he’s ever done to me, making me like him so much is by far the worst.
Maybe you thought I was too busy to take my revenge? Well, Locke, I want you to understand that for you, I will make time.”
I know you’re always sticking your neck out as though you’re enamored of the axe,
We are definitely the scary ones.
“It seems I have a singular taste for women who threaten me.”
Of course. It can’t just be a normal maze. No, it’s got to be out to get me.
I hope this doesn’t lead to the secret oubliette reserved for people who threaten the maze.
When she’s ready to go, she pulls up her skirts and takes a long hunting knife out of a sheath attached to a garter. In that moment, it’s clear we grew up in the same house.
“I remember you,” says the door. “My prince’s lady.”
“The three of you have one solution to every problem. Murder. No key fits every lock.” Cardan gives us all a stern look, holding up a long-fingered hand with my stolen ruby ring still on one finger. “Someone tries to betray the High King, murder. Someone gives you a harsh look, murder. Someone disrespects you, murder. Someone ruins your laundry, murder.
this sends me every time😂
He has come all this way to yell at me, so we ought to let him.
Only Locke would make the ridiculous choice of arranging a masquerade for a grave affair of state such as hosting Lord Roiben after an attack on his lands.
“Glad you’re up to mocking.” “I hope it’s the last thing about me to go.
I, who have been pretending to subservience, remember my most troublesome talent: pissing off the Folk.
I imagine what it would be like to have my own crown, my own power. Maybe I wouldn’t have to be afraid to love him. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe I wouldn’t have to be scared of all the things I’ve been scared of my whole life, of being diminished and weak and lesser. Maybe I would become a little bit magic.
