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“He glared at me. “Yes, you would do all that, wouldn’t you? Well then, instead, why don’t you just marry me?”
― Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
― Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
“I was surprised to feel his hand brush against mine---he'd crossed the room without a whisper of sound---his grip feather-light.
I froze, realizing that he was about to kiss me only a second after I knew I was going to kiss him. I leaned forward, but he put a hand on the side of my face, very gently, his fingers brushing the edge of my hair. A little shiver went through me. His thumb was by the corner of my mouth, and it made me think of the time when I had touched him there, when I'd thought he was dying from loss of blood. For a heartbeat, all the other moments we'd shared faded away, leaving behind only the small handful of times we'd been close like this, connected somehow like a bright constellation. He brushed his lips against my cheek, and I felt the warmth sink all the way to my bones, chasing out the ice of the snow king's court.
"Good night, Em," he murmured, his breath fluttering against my ear and sending a river of goosebumps down my neck.”
― Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
I froze, realizing that he was about to kiss me only a second after I knew I was going to kiss him. I leaned forward, but he put a hand on the side of my face, very gently, his fingers brushing the edge of my hair. A little shiver went through me. His thumb was by the corner of my mouth, and it made me think of the time when I had touched him there, when I'd thought he was dying from loss of blood. For a heartbeat, all the other moments we'd shared faded away, leaving behind only the small handful of times we'd been close like this, connected somehow like a bright constellation. He brushed his lips against my cheek, and I felt the warmth sink all the way to my bones, chasing out the ice of the snow king's court.
"Good night, Em," he murmured, his breath fluttering against my ear and sending a river of goosebumps down my neck.”
― Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
“There's a bump in your nose now."
He glared at me. "There is not."
"Your mouth is lopsided."
He opened his mouth to argue, but then he just let out a weary groan. "What is the point? I am hideous. I can't wait to change myself back again."
"Don't. I prefer you like this."
He looked surprised, then he began to smile. "Do you?"
"Yes," I said. "You blend into the background. I could almost forget about you entirely. It's refreshing."
Naturally, he found a way to twist this into a compliment. "And am I ordinarily a distraction to you, Em?”
― Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
He glared at me. "There is not."
"Your mouth is lopsided."
He opened his mouth to argue, but then he just let out a weary groan. "What is the point? I am hideous. I can't wait to change myself back again."
"Don't. I prefer you like this."
He looked surprised, then he began to smile. "Do you?"
"Yes," I said. "You blend into the background. I could almost forget about you entirely. It's refreshing."
Naturally, he found a way to twist this into a compliment. "And am I ordinarily a distraction to you, Em?”
― Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
“Do you want to marry me?"
"That's---that's beside the point." A nonsensical reply, but it came the closest to expressing how I felt. I had never even considered marrying Wendell---why on earth would I? Wendell Bambleby! Certainly I'd imagined being with him in other ways, particularly since I'd grown used to having him around---traveling with him across the continent, no doubt arguing half the time; conducting research; scouring woodland and heath for lost doors to the faerie realms. And yes, I liked the prospect of being with him often, or even all the time, and felt a sort of hollowness fill me when I thought about us parting ways. But I couldn't marry one of the Folk, particularly not a faerie king, even if he was Wendell.”
― Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
"That's---that's beside the point." A nonsensical reply, but it came the closest to expressing how I felt. I had never even considered marrying Wendell---why on earth would I? Wendell Bambleby! Certainly I'd imagined being with him in other ways, particularly since I'd grown used to having him around---traveling with him across the continent, no doubt arguing half the time; conducting research; scouring woodland and heath for lost doors to the faerie realms. And yes, I liked the prospect of being with him often, or even all the time, and felt a sort of hollowness fill me when I thought about us parting ways. But I couldn't marry one of the Folk, particularly not a faerie king, even if he was Wendell.”
― Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
“The faeries took no notice of my cry. No doubt they were used to lost travelers screaming for help. One of them grabbed me by my cloak and wrenched me painfully back and forth, like an animal wishing to drag me to the ground. But I did not need to call for Wendell again.
He stepped out from behind a tree---or perhaps from the tree; I didn't see. He reached a hand out and snapped the neck of the faerie gripping me, which I had not expected, and I staggered back from both him and the crumpling body. He saw the mark on my neck, and his entire face darkened with something that seemed to go beyond fury and made him look like some feral creature. The faeries scattered like leaves, though they were too intrigued and too stupid to run.
"Are you hurt?"
"No." I don't know how I made myself speak. I have seen Wendell angry before, but this was something that seemed to surge through him like lightning, threatening to burn everything in its path.
He moved his hand, and a hideous tree rose up from the snow, dark and terrifying, all thorns and knife-sharp branches. The boughs darted out, and he skewered the faeries on them. Once they were all immobilized, held squirming and screaming above the ground, he moved from one to the other, tearing them apart with perfect, calm brutality. Limbs, hearts, other organs I did not recognize scattered the snow. He did not rush, but killed them methodically while the others howled and writhed.”
― Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
He stepped out from behind a tree---or perhaps from the tree; I didn't see. He reached a hand out and snapped the neck of the faerie gripping me, which I had not expected, and I staggered back from both him and the crumpling body. He saw the mark on my neck, and his entire face darkened with something that seemed to go beyond fury and made him look like some feral creature. The faeries scattered like leaves, though they were too intrigued and too stupid to run.
"Are you hurt?"
"No." I don't know how I made myself speak. I have seen Wendell angry before, but this was something that seemed to surge through him like lightning, threatening to burn everything in its path.
He moved his hand, and a hideous tree rose up from the snow, dark and terrifying, all thorns and knife-sharp branches. The boughs darted out, and he skewered the faeries on them. Once they were all immobilized, held squirming and screaming above the ground, he moved from one to the other, tearing them apart with perfect, calm brutality. Limbs, hearts, other organs I did not recognize scattered the snow. He did not rush, but killed them methodically while the others howled and writhed.”
― Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
Ellis English
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