Chianti

“Then come here," he said, a bit redundantly, as he had already pulled her with him into an armchair and curled her up in his arms. "Tell me what I can do to help you feel better."
Fire looked into his quiet eyes, touched his dear, familiar face, and considered the question. Well. I always like when you kiss me.
"Do you?"
You're good at it.
"Well," he said. "That's lucky, because I'll always be kissing you.”
― Kristin Cashore, Fire

“Well then," Roen said briskly, "are you sleeping?"
"Yes."
"Come now. A mother can tell when her son lies. Are you eating?"
"No," Brigan said gravely. "I've not eaten in two months. It's a hunger strike to protest the spring flooding in the south."
"Gracious," Roen said, reaching for the fruit bowl. "Have an apple, dear.”
― Kristin Cashore, Fire

“All right," Clara said. "We have our swordsman, so let's get moving. Brigan, could you attempt, at least, to make yourself presentable? I know this is a war, but the rest of us are trying to pretend it's a party.”
― Kristin Cashore, Fire

“Brigan was saying her name, and he was sending her a feeling. It was courage and strength, and something else too, as if he were standing with her, as if he'd taken her within himself, letting her rest her entire body for a moment on his backbone, her mind in his mind, her heart in the fire of his.
The fire of Brigan's heart was astounding. Fire understood, and almost could not believe, that the feeling he was sending her was love.”
― Kristin Cashore, Fire