cardan greenbriar soft quotes
“I haven’t worn anything in days,” the High King drawls, and if there is something brittle in his eyes, nearly everyone is too awed to notice. “I don’t see why I ought to start now.”
“Modesty?” I force out, playing along, surprised he can joke about the curse, or anything.
He gives me a dazzling, insouciant smile. The kind of smile you can hide behind. “Every part of me is a delight.”
“I always supposed I would be delicious,” I hear him say, although I note that he does not take any of the meat for himself.”
“Councilor,” Cardan says, leaning back against the table, his posture the easy languor of someone who’s already in his cups. “Were you hoping for one of these little honey cakes? I could have passed them down the table.”
“And many other matters we were hoping to take up with you.”
“Tomorrow,” Cardan insists. “Or the next day. Or perhaps next week.”
“And I can’t quite think past how wonderous it is that you’re alive.”
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear those words,” he says. “You don’t want me dead.”
“If you joke about this, I am going to—”
“Kill me?” he asks, raising both black brows.
I think I might hate him after all.”
“But now you’ve explained it,” he says. “And you do love me.”
“I love you,” I confirm.
“Because I am clever and funny,” he says, smiling. “You didn’t mention my handsomeness.”
“Silence,” says Cardan, his manner utterly changed, his tongue a lash. “Jude was just getting to the interesting bit.”
“Cardan looks as though he just stepped off the stage at a playhouse, and while he can glamour himself, I am not at all sure he knows what it is he’s supposed to wear in the illusion.”
“Cardan looks at his reflection in the door of the microwave and adjusts his crown so it’s at an angle.
I roll my eyes, and he gives me a quick grin.”
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jude duarte sad quotes
“She wasn’t even scared. She wasn’t sure she felt anything at all.”
“She couldn’t imagine how it had felt, and as the years went by, she couldn’t make herself feel it again. The horror of the murders dulled with time. Her memories of the day blurred.”
“I know it’s an honor to be raised alongside the Gentry’s own children. A terrifying honor, of which I will never be worthy.
It would be hard to forget it, with all the reminders I am given.”
“We are getting older and things are changing. We are changing. And as eager as I am for it, I am also afraid.”
“You may think salt is sufficient protection, but you children are forgetful. Better to go without. As for dancing, once begun, you mortals will dance yourselves to death if we don’t prevent it.”
I look at my feet and say nothing.
We children are not forgetful.”
“To go inside, we must ride between two trees, an oak and a thorn, and then straight into what appears to be the stone wall of an abandoned folly. I’ve done it hundreds of times, but I flinch anyway. My whole body braces, I grip the reins hard, and my eyes mash shut.”
“Oriana steps forward, probably to remind Taryn and me of all the things she doesn’t want us to do. I don’t give her the chance.”
“I turn my gaze to the floor. Though I hate it, I sink to the ground on one knee, bend my head, and grit my teeth”
“Valerian gives my braid a hard tug. I wince, useless fury coiling in my belly. He laughs and moves on.
My fury curdles into shame. I wish I had smacked his hand away, even though it would have made everything worse.”
“I want to feel something, something besides a vague queasiness. I want to feel more, but every time I look at it, I feel less.”
“I’m so tired,” I say out loud. “So tired.”
I sit there for a long time, watching the rising sun gild the sky, listening to the waves crash as the tide goes out, when a creature flies up to alight on the edge of my window. At first it seems like an owl, but it’s got hob eyes. “Tired of what, sweetmeat?” it asks me.
I sigh and answer honestly for once. “Of being powerless.”
“He doesn’t understand how much that makes them loathe us.
Not that I am not grateful. I like the lessons. Answering the lecturers cleverly is something no one can take from me, even if the lecturers themselves occasionally pretend otherwise. I will take a frustrated nod in place of effusive praise. I will take it and be glad because it means I can belong whether they like it or not.”
“There is nothing I can say to make them stop, and I know it. I have no power here. But today I can’t seem to choke down my anger at my own impotence.”
“What they don’t realize is this: Yes, they frighten me, but I have always been scared, since the day I got here. I was raised by the man who murdered my parents, reared in a land of monsters. I live with that fear, let it settle into my bones, and ignore it. If I didn’t pretend not to be scared, I would hide under my owl-down coverlets in Madoc’s estate forever. I would lie there and scream until there was nothing left of me. I refuse to do that. I will not do that.”
“When I was little, I used to sit at the bank all day, staring at faerie countenances instead of my own, hoping that I might someday catch a glimpse of my mother looking back at me.
Eventually, it hurt too much to try.”
“I want to scream at him: Do you know how hard it is to always keep your head down? To swallow insults and endure outright threats? And yet I have done so. I thought it proved my toughness. I thought if you saw I could take whatever came at me and still smile, you would see that I was worthy.
You’re no killer.
He has no idea what I am.
Maybe I don’t know, either. Maybe I never let myself find out.”
“I pinch my leg until pain washes everything away.”
“Do you know why Madoc won’t let me try for knighthood? Because he thinks I’m weak.”
“Jude,” she cautions.
“I thought I was supposed to be good and follow the rules,” I say. “But I am done with being weak. I am done with being good. I think I am going to be something else.”
“when the fun wore off and I still couldn’t stop, it was just terrifying. It turned out that my fear was equally amusing to him, though. Princess Elowyn found me at the end of the revel, puking and crying.”
“Here’s why I don’t like these stories: They highlight that I am vulnerable. No matter how careful I am, eventually I’ll make another misstep. I am weak. I am fragile. I am mortal.
I hate that most of all.
Even if, by some miracle, I could be better than them, I will never be one of them.”
“Is this fun?” I call to the shore. I am so furious that there’s no room for being scared. “Are you enjoying yourselves?”
“My foot slips on slick rocks, and I am under, swept downstream helplessly, gulping muddy water. I panic, snorting into my lungs. I thrust out a hand, and it closes on the root of a tree. I get my balance again, gasping and coughing.”
“We can curse you to wither away for want of a song you’ll never hear again or a kind word from my lips. We’re not mortal. We will break you. You’re a fragile little thing; we’d hardly need to try. Give up.”
“Never,” I say.”
“I think about how much I hate them and how much I hate myself.”
“a different person is looking back at me.
Maybe the person I might have been if I’d been raised human.
Whoever that is.”
“But when I see human families all together, especially families with sticky-mouthed, giggling little sisters, I don’t like the way I feel.
Angry.
I don’t imagine myself back in a life like theirs; what I imagine is going over there and scaring them until they cry.
I would never, of course.
I mean, I don’t think I would.”
“Knighthood would have been boring anyway,” Vivi says, effectively dismissing the thing I’ve been working toward for years. I sigh. It’s annoying, but also reassuring that she doesn’t think it’s that big a deal, when the loss has felt overwhelming to me.”
“not giving her the satisfaction of being shocked by what she said about our parents. She acts like we don’t remember, like there’s some way I am ever going to forget. She acts like it’s her personal tragedy and hers alone.”
“A wave of panicky frustration comes over me at the sight of her intent expression. I so badly wanted her to choose me to be one of her knights. And though she can’t now, a sudden awful fear that I couldn’t have impressed her comes over me. Maybe Madoc was right. Maybe I lack the instinct for dealing death.
If I don’t try too hard today, at least I never need know if I would have been good enough.”
“My stomach is sour with the lack of food, but I no longer feel hungry. I feel sick, eaten up with nerves. I try to ignore everything but the exercises I move through to limber up my muscles.”
“There’s no shame in surrender. As Taryn said, they’re just words. I don’t have to mean them. I can lie.
I start to lower myself to the ground. This will be over quickly, every word will taste like bile, and then it will be over.
When I open my mouth, though, nothing comes out.
I can’t do it.”
“I stagger past the tournament tents to a stone fountain, where I splash my face with water. I bend down, starting to clean the gravel from my knees. My legs feel stiff, and I am shaking all over.
“Are you all right?” Locke asks, gazing down with his tawny fox eyes. I didn’t even hear him behind me.
I am not.
I am not all right, but he can’t know that, and he shouldn’t be asking.”
“What happens when they turn out my pockets? What happens when they rip my stockings? What happens when they scatter my salt in the dirt?”
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