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“Rose asked me why I was not more surprised by your feat. He does not understand you as I do, Em, but as you seem to consider him a friend now, I told him the truth: in order to be surprised, I could not have known already that you are capable of anything.”
― Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands
― Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands
“I prefer your company, Em."
He said it as if it were obvious. I snorted again, assuming he was teasing me. "Over the company of a tavern filled with a rapt and grateful audience? I'm sure you do."
"Over anyone else's company." Again, he said it with some amusement, as if wondering what I was doing speculating about something so evident.
"You are drunk," I said.
"Shall I prove it to you?"
"No, you shan't," I said, alarmed, but he was already sweeping to the floor, bending his knee and taking my hand between his.
"What in God's name are you doing?" I said between my teeth. "And why are you doing it now?"
"Shall I make an appointment?" he said, then laughed. "Yes, I believe you would like that. Well, name the time when it would be convenient for you to receive a declaration of love."
"Oh, get up," I said, furious now. "What sort of jest is this, Wendell?"
"You don't believe me?" He smiled, all mischief, a look I'd seen from other Folk, enough to know not to trust him one inch. "Ask for my true name, and I'll give it to you."
"Why on earth would you do that?" I demanded, yanking my hand back.
"Oh, Em," he said forlornly. "You are the cleverest dolt I have ever met."
I stared at him, my heart thundering. Of course, I am not a dolt in any sense; I had supposed he felt something for me and had only hoped he would keep it to himself. Forever. Not that a part of me didn't wish for the opposite. But that was when I assumed his feelings in that respect were equivalent to what he felt for any of the nameless women who passed in and out of his bed. And why would I lower myself to that, when he and I already had something that was vastly more valuable?”
― Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
He said it as if it were obvious. I snorted again, assuming he was teasing me. "Over the company of a tavern filled with a rapt and grateful audience? I'm sure you do."
"Over anyone else's company." Again, he said it with some amusement, as if wondering what I was doing speculating about something so evident.
"You are drunk," I said.
"Shall I prove it to you?"
"No, you shan't," I said, alarmed, but he was already sweeping to the floor, bending his knee and taking my hand between his.
"What in God's name are you doing?" I said between my teeth. "And why are you doing it now?"
"Shall I make an appointment?" he said, then laughed. "Yes, I believe you would like that. Well, name the time when it would be convenient for you to receive a declaration of love."
"Oh, get up," I said, furious now. "What sort of jest is this, Wendell?"
"You don't believe me?" He smiled, all mischief, a look I'd seen from other Folk, enough to know not to trust him one inch. "Ask for my true name, and I'll give it to you."
"Why on earth would you do that?" I demanded, yanking my hand back.
"Oh, Em," he said forlornly. "You are the cleverest dolt I have ever met."
I stared at him, my heart thundering. Of course, I am not a dolt in any sense; I had supposed he felt something for me and had only hoped he would keep it to himself. Forever. Not that a part of me didn't wish for the opposite. But that was when I assumed his feelings in that respect were equivalent to what he felt for any of the nameless women who passed in and out of his bed. And why would I lower myself to that, when he and I already had something that was vastly more valuable?”
― Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
“I did not come here only to dance. I came here only to dance with you. It is quite a different thing.”
― Half a Soul
― Half a Soul
“Can’t you sense what enchantments are stored in the stones?” I demanded. “No!” I threw my hands up in frustration. “Then why do you keep on breaking them?” “Because you told me to, you lunatic!”
― Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands
― Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands
“Wendell half sat, half crouched in a hollow in the mountainside, one hand over his eyes, showing no interest whatsoever in our impossible surroundings, and I realized what was happening: somehow the poison had curdled the magic inside him, and any use of enchantment pained him.
I knelt at his side and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes,” he murmured. “Say that you’ll marry me.”
“God.” So he was well enough to tease me, at least—that was some relief. “Perhaps I will refuse you here and now. Disappointment in love may provide a welcome distraction from the poison.”
“Only you, Em, would refer to heartbreak as a distraction. I think I would have a more sympathetic response if I asked to marry a bookcase.”
― Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands
I knelt at his side and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes,” he murmured. “Say that you’ll marry me.”
“God.” So he was well enough to tease me, at least—that was some relief. “Perhaps I will refuse you here and now. Disappointment in love may provide a welcome distraction from the poison.”
“Only you, Em, would refer to heartbreak as a distraction. I think I would have a more sympathetic response if I asked to marry a bookcase.”
― Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands
Mariam’s 2025 Year in Books
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