His kindness was jarring and made me wonder what he wanted in return for it. I was used to tricks, to games.
I used to wish that Madoc never went looking for those girls, and now all I wish is that we could be together again as we once were.
But for one night, he's the father I remember best, the one in whose shadow I have for better or worse become what I am.
I ran anyway. And clutched his fingers as though he could drag me into a world where other kinds of games were possible. Hope lit my heart.
I remember his definition of magic vividly: “the Science and Art of causing Change to occur in conformity with will.
I need to stop fantasizing about running away to some other life and start figuring out the one I have.
Okay," I say, "I'll do it. I'll marry you." He gives me wicked grin. "I had no idea it would be such a sacrifice.
Okay," I say. "I'll do it. I'll marry you." He gives a wicked grin. "I had no idea it would be such a sacrifice.
It has become such an automatic reaction to pain, for him to mask it with a grin. Oak, laughing all the time. Pretending nothing hurts. A false face hiding a false heart.
It’s just that you go so crazy being alone like that. Sometimes he’d forget my water or food and I’d cry and cry and cry.” She stops talking and looks out the window. “I would try to tell myself stories to pass the time. Fairy tales. Parts of books. But t
The moment she was cursed, I lost her. Once it wears off- soon- she will be embarrassed to remember things that she said, things she did, things like this. No matter how solid she feels in my arms, she is made of smoke.
I missed you," I whisper against his skin and feel dizzy with the intimacy of the admission, feel more naked than when he could see every inch of me. "In the mortal world, when I thought you were my enemy, I still missed you.""My sweet nemesis, how glad I
Those who really love you don't mean to hurt you and if they do, you can't see it in their eyes but it hurts them too.
Have I told you how hideous you look tonight?” Cardan asks, leaning back in the elaborately carved chair, the warmth of his words turning the question into something like a compliment.“No” I say, glad to be annoyed back into the present. “Tell me.”"I can't.
