vellichorist

“Would you consider actually marrying me?”

She looks up at him, obviously surprised and a little suspicious. “Really?”

He presses a kiss to her hair. “If you did, I would be willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to prove the sincerity of my feelings.”

“What’s that?” she asks, peering up at him.

“Become a king of some place instead of running away from all royal responsibility.”

She laughs. “You wouldn’t rather sit by my throne on a leash?”

“That does seem easier,” he admits. “I would make an excellent consort.”

“Then I’ll have to marry you, Prince Oak of the Greenbriar line,” Wren says, with a sharp-toothed smile. “Just to make you suffer.”
― Holly Black, The Prisoner’s Throne

“Cardan is lying on the bed, bandaged and sulking, in a magnificent dressing gown. “I hate being unwell,” he says.

“You’re not sick,” Jude tells him. “You are recovering from being stabbed—or rather, throwing yourself on a knife.”

“You would have done the same for me,” he says airily.

“I would not,” Jude snaps.

“Liar,” Cardan says fondly.”
― Holly Black, The Prisoner’s Throne

“Oak desperately wants to stop Cardan from talking, but short of kicking him or throwing something at his head, he has no idea how.”
― Holly Black, The Prisoner’s Throne

“Before, I would’ve melted at this. I would’ve leaned forward like a flower bending in his presence. But I don’t curl into his touch, and my lips don’t lift up in a forgiving smile. My lashes don’t flutter closed, and a sigh doesn’t pass my lips. Because...it’s too late.”
― Raven Kennedy, Gleam