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Kindle Notes & Highlights
“This is Paris. Mistresses are more common than croissants or needlessly tiny cups of coffee.”
He smiled at her—the Smile, the one that turned the sternest curmudgeons to butter and made strong men and women weep. Cordelia herself was not immune. She grinned back.
The two of them were sharing one side of the carriage, as it had become quickly apparent on the first day of their journey that Will needed the entire other side for dramatic gesturing.
“Well, I shall; I can’t promise anything for your father. He’s always been slow.” “But I have never worn a Russian hat with fur earflaps,” said Will, “unlike some individuals currently present.”
Dear Alastair, why are you so stupid I brush my teeth don’t tell anyone —Thomas
“Ah,” Magnus said, rather glumly. “I see there are some interpersonal dramatics taking place here.”
“That shouldn’t have worked,” he said. “But then, that’s true of so many things we’ve done.”
“Wonderful,” Matthew muttered. “Advice about human women from a Prince of Hell.”
“I actually feel a bit hopeful,” said Alastair. “Is that mad?” “Not necessarily,” said Thomas. “It could just be light-headedness, since we’re running out of food.”
“I have just,” he said, by way of greeting, “received a seventh fire-message from my father.” He shuffled through the pages. “In this one, he says they are running late and they are ten minutes away. In this one, they are nine minutes away. In this one, they are eight minutes away. In this one…” “They are seven minutes away?” Matthew guessed. James shook his head. “No, in this one he wants to know if we have enough mustard.”
