Perhaps she had always been a monster, but even the lady monsters of the world couldn’t escape the expectations that came of being women.

Though I suppose it’s better to marry an idiot than someone who thinks you’re an idiot.

You might be surprised at the strength of the fragile. And for some people it is ordinary life that is most challenging, not so much the extraordinary.

There existed something in this world that bound a mage tighter than a blood oath: love. Love was the ultimate chain, the ultimate whip, and the ultimate slave driver.

She was proud one moment, covetous the next, and then fearful the moment after that. It would always be like this, wouldn’t it, being the wife of a man she loved but couldn’t trust, whose true motives were as murky as the bottom of the sea?

He did not look like an archangel – if archangels looked as he did, there would be no women of virtue left in Paradise.

He used to believe that to forgive was to allow an offense to go unpunished. Now he finally understood that forgiveness was not about the past, but the future.

He kissed the shell of her ear. “Then let me tell you this: I live for you and you alone.

Some turn the soil and plant seedlings. We garden with words and nurture affinity.

At least once in his life, he would like for her to look at him as she would a morsel of fine French pastry. Or a slice of Victoria sandwich. Or even a humble piece of buttered bread.