The Priory of the Orange Tree (The Roots of Chaos, #1)

by Samantha Shannon

That was when her heart had grown harder, like a ship collecting barnacles.

“You have not seen death, my lord. You have only seen the mask we put on it.”

Streets wound like rat tails around the buildings.

at last, that he would never call her village chaff again. To call her that would prove that chaff could grow taller than grass. The only way to save face was to treat her as his equal.

“In darkness, we are naked. Our truest selves. Night is when fear comes to us at its fullest, when we have no way to fight it,” Ead continued. “It will do everything it can to seep inside you. Sometimes it may succeed—but never think that you are the night.”

No woman should be made to fear that she was not enough.

Ead called fire her friend, and she would plunge into the furnace for Sabran Berethnet, for just one night with her. Let them come with their swords and their torches. Let them come.

“She did not die needlessly,” Tané said, her gaze blank. “With her dying breath, she restored the joy of a dragon and, in doing so, restored the world. Is there a more honorable thing to do with a life?”

The world could end and he would find a way to keep on reading.

But she knew how to ache for something far away. She knew how to endure. Sabran watched her face. At last, Ead leaned close and kissed her. “Ten years,” she said, “and not one sunrise more.”