Cinderella never asked for a prince. She asked for a night off and a dress.
Maybe I’ve read too many books. I’d hoped for passion, for a love that took reason by the shoulders and shoved it off a cliff.
Every time I learned something new about Silas, I found I admired him even more.
I’d said he couldn’t burn me. I still believed that. If I was going to go up in a flame, it would be my own doing.
She dragged her gaze over the boats, finally meeting my eyes. She stopped looking. Had I been what she was trying to find?
Over the next few weeks, I intend to make all of Coroa aware of just how much I adore you. That will mean many things. Some will beg for your favor; others will curse your name. But none of that matters, Hollis. I want you for my bride.
A minute down the road, my flower crown flew off behind me and landed somewhere in the dark.
You know, even in places that are dark, even in the midst of war, sometimes, people find light in each other.
Please don’t do this. Please. I love you.” My face was crumpling. “Don’t. You. Dare,” Maxon ordered through gritted teeth. “You put on a smile, and you wear it to the last second.” I blinked away the tears and gave a weak smile. “That’ll do. Don’t let that slip until you leave the room, do you understand?” I nodded. He looked into my eyes. “I’ll be glad when you’re gone.
People were not their introductions. They were not their lineage or country. They were but themselves. And we had to dig past all the rest to find them.
The grand and the small; it all mattered.
I picked up one of the books, getting lost in a world where the people had all their dreams come true.
Jameson’s lips lifted into a devilish smirk. “Don’t worry, Hollis. You will know everything soon enough.
The game of court will put you into an early grave if you let yourself be swept up in them.
I had a cruel sense of relief that it wasn’t me, and the guilt of that relief was so heavy it was hard to breathe.
Worlds could be changed when we chose not to walk into a room operating as if everyone was our enemy.
But with the letter here, none of my work mattered anymore. In my mom’s mind, I was already queen.
The moon was rising higher outside, the stars glittering around it like diamonds, though it was plain to see that they weren’t all white. Some were blue or yellow, some pinkish red. The night sky was the best dressed lady at court, the stars her finest dress and the moon her perfect crown.
You may take my freedom, but you will not be permitted to touch my joy.
Because the truth was the same as it ever was: caring about someone made losing them that much worse.
No.” The word felt like a slap across the face.