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The Queen of Nothing

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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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“Come with me,' Cardan says again, drawing me away from the blood-soaked star chart and the others taking their lessons. 'I am a prince of Faerie. You have to do what I want.' He leads me to the dappled shade of an oak tree, then lifts me up so I am seated on a low branch. He keeps his hands on my waist and moves closer, so that he's standing between my thighs. 'Isn't this better?' he says, gazing up at me. I am not sure what he means, but I nod. 'You're so beautiful.' He begins to trace patterns on my arms, then runs his hands down my sides. 'So very beautiful.' His voice is soft, and I make the mistake of looking into his black eyes, at his wicked, curving mouth. 'But your beauty will fade,' he continues, just as softly, speaking like a lover. His hands linger, making my stomach tighten and warmth pool in my belly. 'This smooth skin will wrinkle and spot. It will become as thin as cobwebs. These breasts will droop. Your hair will grow dull and thin. Your teeth will yellow. And all you have and all you are will rot away to nothing. You will be nothing. You are nothing.' 'I'm nothing,' I echo, feeling helpless in the face of his words. 'You come from nothing, and it is to nothing you will return,' he whispers against my neck. A sudden panic overtakes me. I need to get away from him. I push off the edge of the branch, but I don't hit the ground. I just fall and fall and fall through the air, dropping like Alice down the rabbit hole.”

DreamNightmareHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirJude DuarteCardan GreenbriarNothingJudeCardanThe Queen Of Nothing
Book:The Queen of Nothing
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“Are you angry about-' He cuts himself off, looking at my face more carefully. 'No, you're afraid. But why would you be afraid of me?' I am trembling with a feeling that I barely understand. 'I'm not,' I lie. 'I hate you. You sent me into exile. Everything you say to me, everything you promise, it's all a trick. And I, stupid enough to believe you once.' The sheathed knife slides easily to my hand. 'Of course it was a trick-' he begins, then sees the weapon and bites off whatever he was about to say.”

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“I have added bonemeal to my bread,' Aslog says. 'Ground just as fine as any grain. My loaves will be more famed than ever before, though not for the same reason. And if I served Queen Gliten the bones of her own consort, at her own table, what of it? It is no more than she deserves, and unlike her, I do pay my debts.' He snorts, and she looks at him in surprise. 'Well,' he says, 'that's awful, but a little bit funny, too. I mean, did she have him with butter or jam?' 'You always did laugh when you would have been better served staying silent,' she says with a glower. 'I recall that not.' Cardan doesn't add that he laughs when he is nervous.”

FunnyBreadNervousHolly BlackThe Folk Of The AirCardan GreenbriarCardanAslogAslog Of The West
Book:How the King of Elfhame Learned to Hate Stories
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“,,,you think it was sunrise I was waiting for and not my queen. Do you not hear her footfalls? She has never quite managed the trick of hiding them as well as one of the Folk. Surely you've heard of her, Jude Duarte, who defeated the redcap Grima Mog, who brought the Court of Teeth to their knees? She's forever getting me out of scrapes. Truly, I don't know what I would do without her.”

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Book:How the King of Elfhame Learned to Hate Stories
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“Now what?' 'We wait for the sun together,' he says, his gaze going to the hot blush of the horizon. 'And no one dies.' He sits with her as red turns to gold, as blue edges out black. He sits with her as grey creeps over Aslog's skin, and he does not look away from the betrayal on her face as she becomes stone.”

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Book:How the King of Elfhame Learned to Hate Stories
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