Emily Cui

“I need to go to him,” Genya whispered. “One last time.”
She had pulled a notebook from her pocket, the pages held open. It took Zoya a moment to understand what it was. She glimpsed a few words in David’s scrawl: Ideas for compliments—hair (color, texture), smile (causes and effects), talents (tailoring, tonics, sense of style—inquire on “style”), teeth? size of feet?
“His journal,” Zoya said. Where David had written down all his little reminders for how to make Genya happy.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“You will grow to hate me. I’m too sharp. Too angry. Too spiteful.” “You are all of those things, but you are so much more,”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“I am a soldier, I've been a soldier since I was a child.
Would you have a girl who has spent her life down in the trenches of battle wear a crown? Would you have a soldier queen?
I am a Squaller, a Grisha. Some of our enemies will call me a witch. And some of our own people will agree.
Will you have a Grisha queen?
My father's name was Suhm Nabri, and I am his only daughter. Will you have a Suli queen?”
― 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