Willow

“This queen seems no better." He came close to me, looking me up and down as a glint of mischief came into his eyes. "But mortals can be entertaining. And they do not break as easily as some think."
Wendell's expression went from one of bemusement to towering fury with such abruptness that both Taran and I fell back a step; Taran afterwards looked annoyed as a cat following a moment of gracelessness. There came a terrible rumbling sound, coupled with that same wet rustling with which I am all too familiar, as if the attentive oaks were uprooting themselves en masse and lumbering in our direction.
"You are speaking to a queen of Faerie," Wendell said, and it seemed as if the rustling leaves were in his voice.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales

“In fact, once I have retaken my throne, you will not have to do anything if you do not wish it. If you desire to sit in some corner of the castle hunched over your books and notepaper, bestirring yourself only to demand a tour of some brownie market or bogle den, then it will be done."
I let out a trembling breath. "And what sort of queen would that make me?"
He looked perfectly earnest as he leaned in to kiss my cheek. "Mine.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales

“If Wendell’s stepmother has us slain before I have a chance to contribute to the scholarly debate, I will be very disappointed.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales

“What is love, without freedom?" she murmured against his skin. He leaned close to kiss her shoulder, then to whisper in her ear. "What is life, without you?”
― V.L. Bovalino, The Second Death of Locke