Take the Key and Lock Her Up

Because that's the thing about hope- you can never kill it yourself.

I've never heard of it. And, I don't like to brag, but I read a lot. I mean a lot. And most of it is classified. - Megan

No, you misunderstand, Madame Prime Minister. I'm not just good at staying alive. I'm also really, really good at drugging people. - Grace

Oh, can I? Because what I want to do is strangle you. I want to tie you up and throw you over my shoulder and jump out of a moving train. I want to take you to the coldest place in Siberia, to the darkest part of the moon. I want to keep you safe, Gracie. So the question is, why are you so determined to stop me?" - Alexei

-I'm your girlfriend? - "No." Alexei shakes his head, then pulls me to him again, holds me closer. "There's not a word in either of our language for what you are to me".

Why are you here?" I demanded, but the PM only smirks again. "You've been a very bad girl, Ms Blakely." I ease closer. "You're under the impression that I care, Ms Petrovic.

But Alexandra Petrovic did not become the most powerful politician in Adria by taking no for an answer. "You seem to think that I'm asking, Ms Blakely. Which I'm not." I stop and turn. "And you seem to think that you scare me, Ms Petrovic. Which you don't.

The man is strong. He's huge. But Alexei has something to fight for. And i realise with a start that the something is me. - Grace

The sun is at the horizon now, and the sky streaks with reds and golds. The whole world seems to be wearing a halo, and for a second I let myself savor it. I let myself believe. Alexei's arm is warm around my shoulder and a cool breeze blows in off the sea. Between us, we speak seven different languages, but not a one of us says a word. We sit in silence as the sun sets, marking the end of this day. Marking the beginning of everything else.

I’m the solution to a two-hundred-year-old

What was her idea?" I ask, my voice like ice. "For Amelia's heir to marry the prince. Your mother was the one who first thought of this solution... The only problem is... well... we got the heir wrong.

Five decades on the throne and this is how they treat me, Ms. Blakely. Makes me wish I'd been a teacher." His voice drops. He almost sounds a little wistful. "I would have liked to have been a teacher.

Hope is a delicate thing. A dangerous thing.

I ease out my third-story window and drop onto the brick ledge below, but I’m not even a little bit afraid. I should be, I know. If I were normal. If I had good sense. If I were sane.

I know there's no use in looking back. It's started now. And looking back won't do anything but make me turn to salt. I blame my new designer shoes for the fact that my footsteps are unsteady. I blame the fact that I can't breathe on the blue dress's tiny waste.

I believe it has an entire staff of seamstresses and tailors. We can have anything altered—anything at all. It’s really no—