Vlada

“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.”
― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

“Violet Sorrengail. Two Rs.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Onyx Storm

“Коли ж усе було сказано й зроблено, нацистська еліта являла собою доволі нездорове кубло. Ґерінг був огрядним, до того ж полюбляв морфін. Ґеббельс мав клишоногість, а Гітлер страждав на хронічну хворобу шлунка і ймовірно, що скінчив би життя із хворобою Паркінсона.”
― Андерс Риделл, The Book Thieves: The Nazi Looting of Europe's Libraries and the Race to Return a Literary Inheritance

“A contract marriage would be most wise,” Nairi agrees with a nod, ignoring Garrick’s words. “We could have the legalities performed in the morning at temple, and then hear what will, no doubt, be a plea for our assistance in their war tomorrow afternoon.” Wood creaks behind me. “Draw up the papers,” Xaden says, gripping my chair. Bile rises in my throat. What the fuck is he doing? Cat’s head snaps in our direction, Mira and Garrick both gawk, and Aaric continues eating. I want the damned bond back now. “Ah, there we go!” Faris claps twice. “What an excellent decision. Shall we go with three or four years?” “Lifetime. Anything less is unacceptable.” Xaden slides his hand to the back of my neck. “And her full name for the papers is Violet Sorrengail. Two Rs.” I’m torn between throwing a dagger at his chest and kissing the shit out of him. Mira stifles a grin. “My last name is tied to the title, but we could take yours,” Xaden offers, and his eyes soften just slightly when they lock on mine. “You could hyphenate,” Garrick suggests. “Or combine? Riorgail? Sorrenson?” “That is not what they meant,” I whisper at Xaden.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Onyx Storm