Samantha Shannon

Maybe not the blacklisted music and forbidden novels, but I could have found a tree to read by, or made coffee before daybreak, under other circumstances.

No woman should be made to fear that she was not enough.

“To be kin to a dragon,” Nayimathun said, “you must not only have a soul of water. You must have the blood of the sea, and the sea is not always pure. It is not any one thing. There is darkness in it, and danger, and cruelty. It can raze great cities with its rage. Its depths are unknowable; they do not see the touch of the sun. To be a Miduchi is not to be pure, Tané. It is to be the living sea. That is why I chose you. You have a dragon’s heart.”

a woman with acorn skin and watchful eyes, whose posture had been almost regal—he had sensed an inner warmth. Not the heat of wyrmfire, but something soft and golden, like the first light of a summer morning.

Cockatrice, most likely. It combines the qualities of both.”

Peace. I envy them too, sometimes. How easy they seem to find it. Onren, especially.”

Remember, Tané, that a sword does not need to be whetted at all hours to keep it sharp.”

As he looked her in the face, Tané knew, at last, that he would never call her village chaff again. To call her that would prove that chaff could grow taller than grass.

Under the cracked-open sky, the descendant of riders bowed to her, lower than he ever had

Donmata,” Loth murmured.

She held his gaze.

The sole heir of King Sigoso and the late Queen Sahar.