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“No one was my master— but I might be master of everything, if I wished. If I dared.”
― A Court of Mist and Fury
― A Court of Mist and Fury
“When you healed my arm...You didn't need to bargain with me. You could have demanded every single week of the year." My brows knit together as he turned, already half-consumed by the dark. "Every single week, and I would have said yes." It wasn't entirely a question, but I needed the answer.
A half smile appeared on his sensuous lips. "I know," he said, and vanished.”
― A Court of Thorns and Roses
A half smile appeared on his sensuous lips. "I know," he said, and vanished.”
― A Court of Thorns and Roses
“His tunic was unbuttoned at the top, and he ran a hand through his blue-black hair before he wordlessly slumped against the wall across from me and slid to the floor.
"What do you want?" I demanded.
"A moment of peace and quiet," he snapped, rubbing his temples.
I paused. "From what?"
He massaged his pale skin, making the corners of his eyes go up and down, out and in. He sighed. "From this mess."
I sat up farther on my pallet of the hay. I'd never seen him so candid.
"That damned bitch is running me ragged," he went on, and dropped his hands from his temples to lean his head against the wall. "You hate me. Imagine how you'd feel if I made you serve in my bedroom. I'm High Lord of the Night Court - not her harlot."
So the slurs were true. And I could imagine very easily how much I would hate him - what it would do to me - to be enslaved to someone like that. "Why are you telling me this?"
The swagger and nastiness were gone. "Because I'm tired and lonely, and you're the only person I can talk to without putting myself at risk." He let out a low laugh. "How absurd: a High Lord of Prythian and a - "
"You can leave if you're just going to insult me."
"But I'm so good at it". He flashed one of his grins. I glared at him, but he sighted. "One wrong move tomorrow, Freyre, and we're all doomed.”
― A Court of Thorns and Roses
"What do you want?" I demanded.
"A moment of peace and quiet," he snapped, rubbing his temples.
I paused. "From what?"
He massaged his pale skin, making the corners of his eyes go up and down, out and in. He sighed. "From this mess."
I sat up farther on my pallet of the hay. I'd never seen him so candid.
"That damned bitch is running me ragged," he went on, and dropped his hands from his temples to lean his head against the wall. "You hate me. Imagine how you'd feel if I made you serve in my bedroom. I'm High Lord of the Night Court - not her harlot."
So the slurs were true. And I could imagine very easily how much I would hate him - what it would do to me - to be enslaved to someone like that. "Why are you telling me this?"
The swagger and nastiness were gone. "Because I'm tired and lonely, and you're the only person I can talk to without putting myself at risk." He let out a low laugh. "How absurd: a High Lord of Prythian and a - "
"You can leave if you're just going to insult me."
"But I'm so good at it". He flashed one of his grins. I glared at him, but he sighted. "One wrong move tomorrow, Freyre, and we're all doomed.”
― A Court of Thorns and Roses
“To the people who look at the stars and wish, Rhys."
Rhys clinked his glass against mine. “To the stars who listen— and the dreams that are answered.”
― A Court of Mist and Fury
Rhys clinked his glass against mine. “To the stars who listen— and the dreams that are answered.”
― A Court of Mist and Fury
“There are those who seek me a lifetime but never we meet,
And those I kiss but who trample me beneath ungrateful feet.
At times I seem to favor the clever and the fair,
But I bless all those who are brave enough to dare.
By large, my ministrations are soft-handed and sweet,
But scorned, I become a difficult beast to defeat.
For though each of my strikes lands a powerful blow,
When I kill, I do it slow... ”
― A Court of Thorns and Roses
And those I kiss but who trample me beneath ungrateful feet.
At times I seem to favor the clever and the fair,
But I bless all those who are brave enough to dare.
By large, my ministrations are soft-handed and sweet,
But scorned, I become a difficult beast to defeat.
For though each of my strikes lands a powerful blow,
When I kill, I do it slow... ”
― A Court of Thorns and Roses
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