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Quote by Rafael Sabatini

“But he looks no more than thirty. He is very handsome - so much you will admit; nor will you deny that he is very wealthy and very powerful; the greatest nobleman in Britany. He will make me a great lady." "God made you that, Aline.”

Quote by Rafael Sabatini

Book:Scaramouche
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Scaramouche

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Author

Rafael Sabatini
Rafael Sabatini

Rafael Sabatini (April 29, 1875 – February 13, 1950) was an Italian-born British writer known for his historical adventure novels. His most famous works include 'Captain Blood', 'The Sea Hawk', and 'Spartacus'. Born in Italy to an English mother and Italian father, he was multilingual and later settled in England to pursue writing. His novels often set in 17th and 18th century Europe, blending romance and adventure. Sabatini's works were adapted into films and TV series, influencing the historical adventure genre. He wrote over 40 novels and short story collections, earning the title 'Master of Historical Adventure'. His legacy endures among fans of classic adventure literature. more

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“Cassian was sleeping in a chair beside her bed. His head was at an awkward angle, and his wings drooped onto the stone- and he was wearing only his undershorts and a blanket that looked as if someone had draped it over his lap. ... She stared at him for long minutes, the unusual paleness of his face, the brows still clenched with worry, as if he fretted for her, even in sleep. The sun gilded his dark hair and shone through his wings, bringing out the undertones of reds and golds in both. Like a knight guarding his lady. She couldn't stop the image, sprung from the pages of her childhood books. Like a warrior-prince, with those tattoos and that muscle-bound chest. Her throat tightened unbearably, her eyes stinging. She would not let herself cry, not for herself or for the sight of him keeping watch beside her bed all night. But it was as if her furious blinking woke him, as if he could hear the flutter of her lashes. His hazel eyes shot to hers, like he always knew precisely where she was. And they were so full of worry, of that unrelenting goodness, that she had to fight like hell to keep the tears from falling. Cassian said gently. 'Hey.' She clamped down on herself. 'Hello.' 'Are you all right?' 'Yes.' No. Though not for the reason he believed. 'Good.' He groaned, stretching, first his arms and then his wings. Muscles rippled. 'You want to talk about it?' 'No.' 'That's fine.' And that was that. But Cassian threw her a half smile, and it was so normal, so him in a way that no one else was or would ever be, that her throat tightened again. 'You want breakfast?' Nesta managed to answer his half smile with one of her own. 'I like your priorities, general.”

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“Cassian strode in, a tray of food in hand, and halted when he didn't find her on the bed. His eyes shot to the sunken pool, and she could have sworn he almost dropped the tray onto the white carpet. 'I... You.' His loss of words was enough to pull her from her thoughts, to curve the corners of her mouth upward. 'Me?' He shook his head like a wet dog. 'I bought some food. I assumed you'd want dinner.' 'There's no dining room?' 'There is, but I thought you might need to unwind.' She surveyed him, surprised that he knew her well enough to guess that the thought of speaking to everyone again, of dressing in suitable clothes, was draining- miserable. Knew her well enough to grasp that she'd rather eat in her room and piece herself together.”

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