Heartless

by Marissa Meyer

To be all right implies an impossible phase. We hope for mostly right on the best of our days.”

“Perhaps we know each other in the future and you’re only remembering backward.”

Romance. Passion. Love. She had never experienced them before, but she imagined they would leave her feeling like that dream had. Like the Joker did, with his quick smiles and witty remarks. She felt like she could talk to him for hours, for days and months and years, and never tire of it.

“It is a dangerous thing to unbelieve something only because it frightens you.”

“Fascinating, isn’t it, how often heroic and foolish turn out to be one and the same.

“These things do not happen in dreams, dear girl,” he said, vanishing up to his neck. “They happen only in nightmares.”

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” “Oh—because they each produce a few notes, though they tend to be very flat.” She was proud of herself for remembering, so caught in the performance had she been. “He covered the ballroom in confetti. Little paper notes, all with charming designs.” Hatta twirled the cane. “I always preferred the answer: because they both have quills dipped in ink.” Cath was surprised to find that the riddle, which had seemed impossible to answer when she’d first heard it, could have two such fitting solutions.

“When pleased, I beat like a drum. When sad, I break like glass. Once stolen, I can never be taken back. What am I?” She thought for a long moment before venturing, “A heart?” Hatta’s eyes warmed. “Very acute, Lady Pinkerton.” “It’s very good,” she said, “although I wonder whether it wouldn’t be more accurate to say, ‘Once given, I can never be taken back.’” “That would imply we give our hearts away willingly, and I am not sure that is the case.

This was why she enjoyed baking. A good dessert could make her feel like she’d created joy at the tips of her fingers. Suddenly, the people around the table were no longer strangers. They were friends and confidantes, and she was sharing with them her magic.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Lady Catherine Pinkerton of Rock Turtle Cove. I’ve been trying, but it’s useless. You’ve had me mesmerized from the first moment I saw you in that red dress, and I don’t know what to do about it, other than to use every skill at my disposal to try and mesmerize you back.”

My head tells me it will never happen, but my heart—” “Sometimes your heart is the only thing worth listening to.”

“The easiest way to steal something,” Jest murmured, “is for it to be given willingly.”

“You have my heart, Jest. I don’t know if you deserve it or not. I can’t tell if you’re a hero or a villain, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Either way, my heart is yours.”

“What is luxury if your life is a lie?

Jest said you had no reason to stay, but he was wrong. There is always a reason to stay. Always a reason to go back. It’s best not even to look, not even to guess.

“But hoping,” he said, “is how the impossible can be possible after all.”