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“Whatever you do to me,' I say, too angry to stay quiet, 'I can do worse to you.' 'Oh,' he says, fingers tight on mine. 'Do not think I forget that for a moment.' 'Then why?' I demand. 'You believe I planned your humiliation?' He laughs. 'Me? That sounds like work.' 'I don't care if you did or not,' I tell him, too angry to make sense of my feelings. 'I just care that you enjoyed it.' 'And why shouldn't I delight to see you squirm? You tricked me,,' Cardan says. 'You played me for a fool, and now I am the King of Fools.' 'The High King of Fools,' I say, a sneer in my voice. Our gazes meet, and there's a shock of mutual understanding that our bodies are pressed too closely. I am conscious of my skin, of the sweat beading on my lip, of the slide of my thighs against each other. I am aware of the warmth of his neck beneath my twined fingers, of the prickly brush of his hair and how I want to sink my hands in to it. I inhale the scent of him- moss and oakwood and leather. I stare at his treacherous mouth and imagine it on me. Everything about this is wrong.” — Holly Black