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Once upon a time, on the coldest night of midwinter, in the darkest heart of the forest, Death and Fortune came to a crossroads.
It has been nearly thirteen years since Death and Fortune claimed me for their own,
Little thieves steal gold, and great ones steal kingdoms, but only one goes to the gallows.
there were three reasons a person would be wanted: for profit, pleasure, or power. If you could satisfy only one, they used you. Two, they saw you. Three, they served you.
Just because you can survive without someone doesn’t mean they’re unwanted.
There’s just so much I could be stealing right now, if I didn’t have social obligations with the man who tried to poison me earlier in the week. And if it weren’t for the curse. And, I suppose, the law, though really we all know my concern for that is cosmetic at best.
“I think there are lives that make it easy to be good. Or what most people call good. When you have wealth, status, family, it’s easy to be a saint, it costs you nothing.
the world keeps making you choose between survival and martyrdom. No one should fault you for wanting to live.”
“We were never going to trust each other, right? You’re a walking morality lecture with something to prove, and I’m a scoundrel with an unflinching sense of entitlement to other people’s property.”
He looks like he wants to kiss me. And a little like he wants to strangle me. We are meant for each other.
