Catherine

“Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent little thing, aren’t you?”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Hope is a fickle, dangerous thing. It steals your focus and aims it toward the possibilities instead of keeping it where it belongs—on the probabilities.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Oh, gods.”
“Which one are you calling out for? Because it’s just you and me in this room, Vi, and I don’t share.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You suffered no injuries?” Two long, wet fingers hooked the top of her neckline and tugged her closer to the side of the bathtub. Sebastian’s eyes were pale, lucent blue, sparkling like winter starlight. “I may have enough of a sprain to require your services.” A smile curved her lips. “What services?” “I need a bath maid.” Catching one of her hands, he drew it down into the water. “For my hard-to-reach places.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter