Zsolt Nagy

“Listen,” he says, pulling a curled fist out of his pocket. He takes one of Alex’s hands and turns it to press something small and heavy into his palm. “I want you to know, I’m sure. A thousand percent.”

He removes his hand and there, sitting in the center of Alex’s callused palm, is the signet ring.

“What?” Alex’s eyes flash up to search Henry’s face and find him smiling softly. “I can’t—”

“Keep it,” Henry tells him. “I’m sick of wearing it.”

It’s a private airstrip, but it’s still risky, so he folds Henry in a hug and whispers fiercely, “I completely fucking love you.”

At cruising altitude, he takes the chain off his neck and slides the ring on next to the old house key. They clink together gently as he tucks them both under his shirt, two homes side by side.”
― Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue

“On the map of you, my fingers could always find the green hills, Wales. Cool waters and a shore of white chalk. The ancient part of you carved out of stone in a prayerful circle, sacrosanct. Your spine's a ridge I'd die climbing.

If I could spread it out on my desk, I'd find the corner of your mouth where it pinches with my fingers, and I'd smooth it away and you'd be marked with the names of saints like all the old maps. I get the nomenclature now- saints' names belong to miracles”
― Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue

“Until he met the most devastatingly gorgeous peasant boy from a nearby village who said absolutely ghastly things to him that made him feel alive for the first time in years and who turned out to be the most mad sort of sorcerer, one who could conjure up things like gold and vodka shots and apricot tarts out of absolutely nothing, and the prince’s whole life went up in a puff of dazzling purple smoke, and the kingdom said, “I can’t believe we’re all so surprised.”
― Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue

“I'm really going to have you offed," Henry tells him. "You'll never see it coming. Our assassins are trained in discretion. They will come in the night, and it will look like a humiliating accident."
"Autoerotic asphyxiation?"
"Toilet heart attack."
"Jesus."
"You've been warned."
"I thought you'd kill me in a more personal way. Silk pillow over my face, slow and gentle suffocation. Just you and me. Sensual."
"Ha. Well." Henry coughs.”
― Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue