Patricia

“You already know more about faerie kingdoms than any mortal."
"Stories," I said faintly, drawing my hand back. "I know stories."
He gave me an odd look. "And have you ever needed anything else? Have you not shaken a kingdom to its foundations, found a door to a distant otherland, overthrown a queen? Hand you the right storybook, and you are capable of anything.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales

“I must write it down. For it is in writing that I will discover a way out. A door within the story. There is one. It cannot end here. Yet some stories do.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales

“In fact, once I have retaken my throne, you will not have to do anything if you do not wish it. If you desire to sit in some corner of the castle hunched over your books and notepaper, bestirring yourself only to demand a tour of some brownie market or bogle den, then it will be done."
I let out a trembling breath. "And what sort of queen would that make me?"
He looked perfectly earnest as he leaned in to kiss my cheek. "Mine.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales

“What?" I said.
He rose, shaking the dew from his cloak. "You have that look."
He had mirrored my own train of thought, which made me scowl at him irrationally. "Which?"
"The one you wear whenever you outsmart me in some area," he said.
"Well," I began with a shrug, then stopped. My magnanimity was wearing thin, I'm afraid. "Haven't I?"
He laughed, a clear, bright sound, and then, before I knew what was happening, he had lifted me from my feet and spun me through the air, the greenery and shadow of the forest a whirl all around me.
"My beloved Emily," he murmured in my ear.
"Yes, yes, all right," I said, though I did not pull away. My smugness was back, together with a warm sort of satisfaction. It was pleasing to see him this happy.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales