ameliah ㅤꨄ︎’s Reviews > Spearcrest Saints > Status Update

“I want your first book.”
She frowns. “What do you mean?”
“You said you dream of being a writer, no?”
“Yes—I said dream, not that I was one. I’ve not written any books.”
“That’s fine—whenever you write it, then I want that book.”
“I can’t give you a Christmas present that doesn’t yet exist.”
“I’m happy to wait.”

Once Zaro is tucked into bed, Theodora kisses her cheek and straightens herself, but before she can walk away, Zaro grabs her wrist.

“Don’t go,” she mumbles. “Stay. Read me a story.”

🥹🥹🥹

“Don’t be such an idiot—I know exactly who this is!” She fixes me with a look of utter delight. “The famous, the revered, the one and only Theodora Dorokhova.” Without waiting for me to say anything, she launches into me with a hug. “I could not possibly be more excited to meet you at last!”

i’m so excited for this friendship

“The change from a world where Iakov is a rough, silent giant with a proclivity for violence to a world where Iakov is a rough, silent giant with a proclivity for violence and an abusive father.”

“Anyway, I’m pretty sure your Iakov would rather spend Christmas in our nice house and the Ritz in Paris than live in that horrible shithole in St Petersburg waiting for his dad to smash his face in.”

😭😭😭😭😭😭😢😢😢😢😢

“With the giggle of a mischievous tyrant, Zaro goes on the tip of her toes to pat his head. Iakov’s expression the entire time is completely blank as if he couldn’t care less regardless of the situation. When she pats his head, he lets her, and when he does, he does remind me of a dog. A black Doberman Pinscher, muscular and intimidating and almost regal. The kind of dog that might guard the gates of hell.”

“Ah, Iakov!” I turn to see Zaro come down the stairs, looking radiant and beaming at Iakov as if he’s her oldest, closest friend. “Did you remember my macarons?”

With a grunt of acquiescence, Iakov pulls out a pink and gold Ladurée box from the pocket of his leather jacket. Zaro takes it with a wince.

🥹🥹🥹

i love them so much 😭😭😭😭

Theodora sighs. “No. I don’t want to die—I want to live. I want it quite desperately. Maybe I’m not like Ophelia after all.”

“What if you’re not sure what is or isn’t beautiful? What if you are in an abusive relationship with beauty?” She’s no longer looking at me, her eyes having drifted back to Ophelia’s face. “What if I’m Ophelia and beauty is Hamlet, making me feel so awful I want to die?”