“To my surprise, Joscelin rose. ‘Phedre-’ He began, then halted. Sitting below him, I watched him smile to himself, quiet and private. ‘Phedre yields with a willow’s grace,’ he said softly. ‘And endures with the strength of mountains. Without her, life would be calm; and yet lack all meaning.”
“Joscelin, is love supposed to make you feel like you’re sick and dying, and mad enough to hit someone and drunk with joy, and your heart’s a boulder n your chest trying to burst into a thousand pieces all at once?”
“Mm-hmm.” He finished his ale. “That would be love.”
“That was the problem ... with trusting to the written word ... We were human, mortal and fallible. We forgot, we made errors, argued ambiguities, and twisted meanings to suit our own ends.
And in doing so, mayhap we reshaped the gods themselves.”
“Again and again, I pushed my memories away. There were days when it was easy and days when it was hard. My love ... was a boulder in my heart. I sought to let go of it and let it sink. Let it sink below the surface, carrying my heart with it. Let it come to rest on the stream's bottom, a vast hidden bulwark, dividing the current. Let it stay there, hidden and unseen. Forgotten. Betimes it worked. Betimes it didn't. It was the best I could do.”
“By morning, Joscelin was resigned. "You know, betimes I think you are a little mad, Imriel no Montreve," he said to me in the courtyard outside the stable, holding the Bastard's reins.
"You never said that to Phedre," I reminded him.
"Ah, well." He grinned despite himself. "In her case, there is no question.”
“I discovered that we liked each other. But I was fearful of giving free rein to my emotions. Fearful that all those emotions and longings I suppressed would spill forth, rendering me bitter and cruel.”
“I thought about what a priest of Elua had told me about love many years ago, the first time I kept his vigil on the Longest Night. You will find it and lose it, again and again. And with each finding and each loss, you will become more than before. What you make of it is yours to choose. It was true.”
“We might embody those qualities we desire to possess by embracing them, over and over, until the line between seeming and being is no more.”
“I wanted it, I wanted it all. All the ardent beginnings and the confused between-times and the bittersweet dregs.
All of the aches and sorrows, all of the soaring joys.
All of it.”
“And in so doing, mayhap we reshaped the gods themselves. Now that was a thought made me shudder to the bone. I wondered if it were true, and if it were, what would happen when some deity bent out of true by mortal ambition returned to set the record straight.”
“Joscelin, is love supposed to make you feel like you’re sick and dying, and mad enough to hit someone, and drunk with joy, and your heart’s a boulder in your chest trying to burst into a thousand pieces, all at once?” “Mm-hmm.” He finished his ale. “That would be love.”
“I wondered if, by the time we'd been together as long as Phèdre and Joscelin, I'd be able to predict her reactions.
I wasn't sure I would.
I wasn't sure I wanted to, either.”
“It is a dangerous thing to bring a dream to life....I have watched my deepest, dearest hopes take shape, and I am not entirely sure I like the shape they have taken.”
“«Salvezza. Già, ma cosa significa? A quel tempo pensavo di saperlo, pensavo di averne bisogno, e che gli yeshuiti la offrissero. E che il solo prezzo da pagare fosse avere fede.»
«Ma non l'hai accettato.»
Joscelin scosse il capo. «No. Alla resa dei conti il prezzo era troppo alto. Non volevo lasciare l'amore sull'altare della fede. Ho imparato ad avere fede nell'amore.»”
“So you were good enough for the Cullach Gorrym, good enough to marry Dorelei mab Breidaia, good enough to beget Alba a successor, but not good enough for the Queen’s daughter?” Urist’s lips curled with scorn. The tip of his knife flicked upward. “Well, that’s what I think of that, lad.” The red yarn parted and fell.”
“Gli eroi mi davano la nausea. Una volta, avevo voluto essere uno di loro. Avevo covato sogni gloriosi di diventare un eroe dello stesso stampo di cui credevo Joscelin fosse fatto. Avevo perso quelle illusioni molto tempo fa, ma non avevo capito fino ad ora che eroismo significa vivere nel terrore di non essere in grado di proteggere coloro che ami.”
“We forgot, we made errors, argued ambiguities, and twisted meanings to suit our own ends. And in so doing, mayhap we reshaped the gods themselves. Now”
“mayhap if I played at being the kind and gentle husband long enough, it would become true. Master Piero once told us that we might embody those qualities we desire to possess by embracing them, over and over, until the line between seeming and being is no more.”
“It wouldn’t last, of course. I had no illusions on that score. But while it did, I meant to relish every moment of the respite.”
“And what fun is it being a genius if no one appreciates you?”
“Paige, you will have two tasks tonight,” he said, turning to face me. “Both will test the limits of your sanity. Will you believe me if I tell you that they will help you?”
“Not likely,” I said, “but let's get on with it.”
“He turned away and his hands grabbed something. A tiny purple Albertosaurus, and the note she’d given him with it. If she could’ve felt her chest, her heart would’ve skipped a beat.”
“Oh, the lies that I have told myself and others. I knew it yet I didn't know.”
“For sapphires we are held in here. Only you can end our fear.” Violet said. “Until dawn comes we cannot speak. No words can come from this sad beak.”
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