grace

“He was going to break my legs,” she said, her chin held high, the barest quaver in her voice. “Would you have come for me then, Kaz? When I couldn’t scale a wall or walk a tightrope? When I wasn’t the Wraith anymore?”

Dirtyhands would not. The boy who could get them through this, get their money, keep them alive, would do her the courtesy of putting her out of her misery, then cut his losses and move on.

“I would come for you,” he said, and when he saw the wary look she shot him, he said it again. “I would come for you. And if I couldn’t walk, I’d crawl to you, and no matter how broken we were, we’d fight our way out together—knives drawn, pistols blazing. Because that’s what we do. We never stop fighting.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Crooked Kingdom

“Don’t go,” he said, still half asleep.
“I have to bathe. I smell like a forest fire.”
“You smell like wildflowers. You always do. What can I say to make you stay?” His words trailed off into a drowsy mumble as he fell back asleep.
Tell me it’s more than war and worry that makes you speak those words. Tell me what they would mean if you weren’t a king and I weren’t a soldier.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“She liked listening to Nezha talk. He was so hopeful, so optimistic, and so stupid.”
― R.F. Kuang, The Dragon Republic

“Oh, but history moved in such vicious circles.”
― R.F. Kuang, The Burning God