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This one was for me
Lady Leclair was a problem. Looking at her felt a lot like wanting something.
“I’m not accusing you of anything, you despotic little psychopath,”
“You can address me as Your Highness.” “My apologies, Your fucking Highness,”
“I am good, though,” Arthur said, winking at Gabriel, who looked thunderstruck and quickly turned back to face the arena. “Don’t wink at him,” Gwen said. “The point is to make it seem like we’re getting together, not that this is some kind of … mildly incestuous free-for-all.”
“Sid, it’s ten o’clock in the morning.” Sidney hovered, as if awaiting further admonition. “No, I mean, I’m just impressed. Off you go. Try not to make the women weep.”
“You can’t do my punch lines for me,” Arthur said crossly. “They’re quite literally all I have.”
I actually thought that instead I might go and find a man with strong arms—you know, blacksmith, window cleaner—and ask him to hold me down in the moat until dead.”
you love a terrible idea. This one could be your worst yet.”
“Believe me, you’d know if it was a seduction,” said Sidney, putting a bit of space between them. “You wouldn’t be able to miss it. You’d be like, Christ, what a seduction I’m having right now.”
“How do you do it?” Gwen said. She was looking at him like he was some sort of patron saint of same-sex kissing, and he relented and shrugged. “Nobody else is ever going to care as much as you do about the things that you want, Gwendoline. So it’s up to
you—you can put them aside forever, if you can live with that, or you can put on your big-girl girdle and demand more for yourself.”
“What are you doing?” Gwen demanded. “Crimes,” said Arthur, at the exact same time that both Agnes and Sidney said, “Nothing.”
“There’s no way to live up to the chivalric ideal,” Arthur scoffed. “There are only three ways to attempt it—die on a religious quest, die for your true love, or die in battle. Regardless, you never get out of it alive.”
She couldn’t tell which was winning out—her utter devastation at Gabriel’s lack of support, at the way he’d made her feel so monstrous, or the suspicion that she was monstrous; that it was somehow a dishonorable thing to look at Bridget the way she did, and that Gabriel was right to have reacted with revulsion. She wanted to scrub it all out.
Shame. That was the feeling. She felt flooded with it, like it was curdling the blood in her veins and taking root in the pit of her stomach. This is what comes of wanting things.
God, Gwen thought wistfully. I hope she stabs me.
“I like to meet people where I am,” said Arthur, as they got to their feet. “I’m already there. Saves on the commute.”
I should try. It would make everything so much easier.” “You could,” said Arthur. “You could fall in love with a man, and know that you once liked Bridget, and neither of those things would change the other. They would both be true. But right now you do like Bridget. So I don’t think you should settle for a life that denies that particular truth.”
“You moon, I’m afraid. But she must find it endearing. Can’t say I understand the appeal. I like my men emotionally repressed and unavailable.”
“Why does the word ‘experienced’ sound like it means ‘an unstoppable harlot’ coming out of your mouth?”
I’m not talking about what she wants, I’m talking about who she is.
So what do you want to do with your one slightly dull but nonetheless precious life?”
This is it, this is my favorite quote from this book ❤️
It sounded like relief more than anything—the sound of somebody finally at rest after a too-long day—and Arthur was amazed that kissing could feel like that, like both a blessing and a comfort, instead of like the inevitable meeting of two people who were reaching desperately for something they couldn’t quite grasp.
Well, there might be a way to let a little bit of my life be my own. Even if it’s secret, even if it’s hard, it’ll be mine. What’s not real about that?”
Like this. See? Swing them about. And you should act, at all times, as if your crotch is a burden.” “Now hang on,” said Arthur. “I’m a man, and my crotch isn’t a burden.” “Maybe not to you,” said Gwen. “But it’s a burden on the rest of humanity.”
What I’m trying to say is, you knew, and it made perfect sense to you even when it didn’t to me. I didn’t have to try to justify it to you, or beg for your understanding—it wasn’t something that even needed explaining. I had no idea how much that would mean to me. When I talked to you about it, even when you were being a bit of a nightmare, you always made me feel like it was … completely ordinary. Something I should be allowed to want and to have, without question. And this might sound foolish, but it felt like you were somehow on my side, even when you hated me. It … it made me braver.
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They have to make sacrifices that make absolutely no logical sense for their own survival. They have to defy all rationality, in the name of love.”
“In that case, Sidney Fitzgilbert—I have decided to make a series of poor decisions in an attempt to clear my name in the eyes of those I love, most likely culminating in our untimely deaths.” “Well,” said Sidney, shaking out his shoulders and then settling into the saddle, chin stubbornly raised. “Good of you to announce it this time. Usually, you just crack on.”
“I saved your life about eight thousand times,” Sidney said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re so indebted to me. You’re so indebted to me it’s embarrassing.”
“To be truly brave, first you must be afraid—and to be afraid, you must have something you cannot bear to lose.”
A little kiss on the nose for my cat, and for anybody else who fancies one, especially if I forgot to thank you with words.
