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“Finally the church bell tolls, the same low tone it calls at funerals, and she forces herself to her feet. Her father touches her arm. His face is sorry, but his grip is firm. "You will come to love your husband," he says, but the words are clearly more wish than promise. "You will be a good wife," says her mother, and hers are more command than wish. And then Estele appears in the doorway, dressed as if she is in mourning. And why shouldn't she be? This woman who taught her of wild dreams and willful gods, who filled Adeline's head with thoughts of freedom, blew on the embers of hope and let her believe a life could be her own.” — V.E. Schwab
Finally the church bell tolls, the same low tone it calls at funerals, and she forces herself to her feet.
Her father touches her arm.
His face is sorry, but his grip is firm.
"You will come to love your husband," he says, but the words are clearly more wish than promise.
"You will be a good wife," says her mother, and hers are more command than wish.
And then Estele appears in the doorway, dressed as if she is in mourning. And why shouldn't she be? This woman who taught her of wild dreams and willful gods, who filled Adeline's head with thoughts of freedom, blew on the embers of hope and let her believe a life could be her own.