Emily Cui

“Kaz smoothed a gloved hand over his lapel, looking at no one. “It’s for Inej.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“Jesper sniffed. “I thought it had a certain rustic elegance.”
“No,” said Wylan. “He hasn’t been trained. He’s stubborn that way.”
“Independent,” corrected Jesper.
“Pigheaded.”
“But stylish.”
Kaz rapped his cane on the floor. “And now you know why I don’t visit more often.”
Jesper folded his arms. “No one asked you to visit more often. And I don’t remember issuing an invitation for lunch.”
“I have a job that requires both of your skill sets.”
“Kaz,” Wylan said, carefully collecting some of the half-full glasses around the room. “We’d prefer not to do anything illegal.”
“That’s not strictly true,” said Jesper. “Wylan would prefer it, and I want to keep Wylan happy.” He paused, unable to hide his interest. “Is it illegal?”
“Highly,” said Kaz.
“But the pay is excellent,” offered Nikolai.
“We don’t need money,” said Wylan.
“Isn’t it glorious?” Jesper sighed happily.
Kaz smoothed a gloved hand over his lapel, looking at no one. “It’s for Inej.”
Wylan set down the dirty glasses. “Why didn’t you say so? What do you need?”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“Don’t go.”
He shut his eyes and gripped her hand in his. Zoya knew the Healer had noticed it, knew he would probably gossip about it later. But she could weather the gossip. Saints knew she’d endured worse. And maybe she needed to feel his hand in hers after the shock of what they’d witnessed. She couldn’t stop seeing those women burn.
“You shouldn’t be here for this,” said the Healer. “It’s an ugly process.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
The Healer flinched and Zoya wondered if the dragon had emerged, shining silver in her eyes. Let him gossip about that too.
Nikolai clung to her hand as the Healer stripped the ruined flesh from his arm. Only then could it be replaced with healthy skin. It seemed to take hours, first one arm, then the other. Whenever Zoya left the king’s side—to fetch a cool cloth for his head, to turn up the lanterns so that the Healer had better light—Nikolai would open his eyes and mutter, “Where is my general?”
“I’m here,” she repeated, again and again.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“I relied on him to find answers I couldn’t, to blaze a path when I found myself lost. David saw things no one else did. He saw through the world to the mysteries on the other side. I know that he’s gone on to solve those mysteries.” A faint smile touched Nikolai’s lips. “I can see him in some great library, already lost in his work, head bent to some new problem, making the unknown known. When I enter the laboratory, when I wake in the night with a new idea, I will miss him…” His voice broke. “I miss him now. May the Saints receive him on a brighter shore.”
“May the Saints receive him,” the crowd murmured. But David hadn’t believed in Saints. He’d believed in the Small Science. He’d believed in a world ordered by facts and logic.
What do you believe? Zoya didn’t know. She believed in Ravka, in her king, in the chance that she could be a part of something better than herself. But maybe she didn’t deserve that.
All eyes had turned to Genya now. She was David’s wife, his friend, his compatriot. She was expected to speak.
Genya stood straighter, lifted her chin. “I loved him,” she said, her body still trembling as if it had been torn apart and hastily stitched back together. “I loved him and he loved me. When I was … when no one could reach me … he saw me. He…” Genya turned her head to Zoya’s shoulder and sobbed. “I loved him and he loved me.”
Was there any greater gift than that? Any more unlikely discovery in this world?
“I know,” said Zoya. “He loved you more than anything.”
The dragon’s eye had opened and Zoya felt that love, the enormity of what Genya had lost. It was too much to endure knowing she could do nothing to erase that pain”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves