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The Cruel Prince

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Holly Black
Holly Black

Holly Black, born on November 10, 1971, is a renowned fantasy fiction writer from the United States. Her works are known for their unique imagination and profound emotional depth, which have won her a large fan base. more

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“I watch every blow, every flinch. I have little choice. I can shut my eyes, but the sounds are just as terrible. And worst of all is Cardan's empty face, his eyes as dull as lead. Truly, he has come by his cruelty honestly in Balekin's care. He has been raised up in it, instructed in its nuances, honed through it's application. However horrible Cardan might be, I now see what he might become and am truly afraid.”

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“He'd like to make you believe he's our leader, but it's more than Nicasia likes power, I like dramatics, and Valerian likes violence. Cardan can provide us with all three, or at least excuses for all three.' 'Dramatics?' I echo. 'I like for things to happen, for stories to unfold. And if I can't find a good enough story, I make one.' He looks every inch the trickster in that moment.”

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“Prince Cardan watched me all night, a shark restlessly circling, waiting for the right moment to bite. Even now I can conjure the memory of the scorched black of his eyes. And if I laughed louder for the sake of angering him, if I smiled wider, and kissed Locke longer, that is a kind of deceit that even the Folk cannot condemn.”

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“He takes my wounded hand in his. He's wearing black gloves, the leather warm even through the silk over my fingers, and black suit of clothes. Raven feathers cover the upper half of his doublet, and his boots have excessively pointed metal toes that make me conscious of how easy it will be to kick me savagely once we've begun dancing. At his brow, he wears a crown of woven metal branches, cocked slightly askew. Dark silver paint streaks over his cheekbones, and black lines run along his lashes. The left one is smeared, as though he forgot about it and wiped his eye.”

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“...I turn and press the point of my knife directly underneath his chin. 'Jude?' he asks, up against the wall, pronouncing my name carefully, as though to avoid slurring. I am not sure I have ever heard him use my actual name before. 'Surprised?' I ask, a fierce grin starting on my face. The most important boy in Faerie and my enemy, finally in my power. It feels even better than I thought it would. 'You shouldn't be.”

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Book:The Cruel Prince
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