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“Do you know the answer to the riddle?' He crossed his arms. 'Cheating, are you?' 'She never said I couldn't ask for help.' 'Ah, but after she had you beaten to hell, she ordered us not to help you.' I waited. But he shook his head. 'Even if I felt like helping you, I couldn't. She gives the order, and we all bow to it.' He picked a fleck of dust off his black jacket. 'It's a good thing she likes me, isn't it?' I opened my mouth to press him- to beg him. If it meant instantaneous freedom- 'Don't waste your breath,' he said. 'I can't tell you- no one here can. If she ordered us all to stop breathing, we would have to obey that, too.' He frowned at me and snapped his fingers. The soot, the dirt, the ash vanished off my skin, leaving me as clean as if I'd bathed. 'There. A gift- for having the balls to even ask.' I gave him a flat stare, but he motioned to the hearth. It was spotless- and my bucket was filled with lentils.” — Sarah J. Maas