Robin Bridges Quotes

Dariya and I used to play French Revolution when we were little. We'd take turns being Marie Antoinette. Our grandmamma caught us once and had us whipped for revolutionary sentiments. We were six years old at the time and had no idea even what revolutionary sentiments were.

Count Chemenensky was quietly gnawing on something, which, upon further inspection, appeared to be his own tattered clothing. Mon Dieu.

All romances ended exactly the same way: a girl realized the surly boy she had hated all along was the only person in the universe who could complete her soul. I did not believe for a minute that my soul could be completed by some surly boy. And I would not wish my curse to harm anyone else. So how could I dare long for love?

Such polite manners for an armed man who was kidnapping me. Danilo could take a few lessons from him.

I noticed Maman and Papa dancing. Papa looked like he'd rather be shot, but Maman was very happy.

Was I going mad? I prayed for warmth and daylight. I prayed for my sanity.

I knew whatever punishment the grand duke was going to face, mine would most likely be worse.

Your Highness, we must speak tonight," I whispered. "Alone." Enough was enough. I would not take any part in Princess Cantacuzene's plans, and I would not risk my life dallying with the Montenegrins any longer.
"Indeed?" he said, bringing my hand to his lips. I shuddered, realizing he had a different kind of conversation in mind than I did.

I trembled a little under the empress's piercing stare. She was using her faerie sight. I could feel it shimmering over me, illuminating even the darkest stains on my soul. I grew slightly dizzy. And a little sick.

You are going to have a nasty scar," I said as I gently held pressure to stop the bleeding.
"All true warriors wear their scars proudly," he mumbled. "How can I be proud of this one?"
I looked up at him, horrified, as I realized what he meant. "What will your parents say?" I would be sent to Siberia. My whole family would be exiled. If not executed.
He shook his head. "They will know about the count before too long. My father will think that I failed to protect the public from this danger. It is I who fear being sent to Siberia."
"But ... wait. I didn't express my fears out loud, did I?" I dropped his arm and backed away, suddenly spooked by his silvery faerie eyes. "Can you read my thoughts?"
"Sometimes, when I concentrate." He winced and grabbed the bandage from me to apply pressure to the bleeding himself. "You are very easy to read. Most of the time.

Did the princess smell odd to you?" I suddenly asked.
"That is not the point.

I don't want you stashing yourself away with your Smolny friends tonight," Maman said. "I want to see you dancing with lots of handsome young princes and grand dukes."
I rolled my eyes and stared out the window at the snow-covered city. I resolved to dance with the ugliest and the poorest men in the ballroom
if they should ask me.

I wore a white velvet gown, similar to my Smolny dress. I looked forward to the day when I could wear any color in public other than white. White was innocent. My soul was not.

From the way my mother's eyes lit up, I could guess she was wondering about a marriage between me and one of the Grand Duchess Miechen's sons. Never mind that the eldest, Kyril, was only thirteen.

Balls, balls, balls! I am sick to death of balls!

Your Imperial Highness, will you do me the honor of this dance?" I turned to see Miechen's twelve-year-old son, Boris Vladimirovich, looking at me solemnly.
"Of course," I said with a polite curtsy. Angels and ministers of grace, defend me.

Give me one year.Give me a year to prove to you that we belong together. That your darkness won't blot out my light. Promise me