Omeba

“Why are you looking at me like that?" he inquired.

"You used a demonic incantation to pack my stockings!"

He raised an eyebrow. "You're right, that doesn't sound like something a proper evil sorcerer would do. Next time, I won't fold them.”
― Margaret Rogerson, Sorcery of Thorns

“Scrivener," he sighed. "I should have known it was you the moment I heard my great-grandmother's priceless antique vase hit the floor." He turned his assessing gaze to the Malefict. "And who's this? A friend of yours?"

The Codex bared a mouthful of fangs and produced an ear-splitting shriek. Above them, the chandelier trembled.

"Charmed," Nathaniel said. He turned back to Elisabeth. "If the two of you feel the need to destroy anything else, I've been meaning to get rid of Aunt Clothilde's tapestry for years. You'll know it when you see it. It's mauve.”
― Margaret Rogerson, Sorcery of Thorns

“Of course ." A wicked gleam entered his eyes. "But I only turn girls into salamanders on Tuesdays. Luckily for you, it´s a Wednesday, which is the day I drink a goblet of orphan´s blood for supper.”
― Margaret Rogerson, Sorcery of Thorns

“I thought you didn't know how to drive a carriage," she shouted over the pounding of hooves.
“Nonsense,” Nathaniel shouted back. “I’m a fast learner when properly motivated.”
― Margaret Rogerson, Sorcery of Thorns