Zoya Quotes

“Is that all?' said Zoya. 'Will you be taking up juggling as well?'
'Don't be ridiculous,' Nikolai replied. 'I already know how to juggle. Literally and figuratively.”
― Leigh Bardugo, King of Scars

“That first winter, when it was time for her friends to leave, the girl ventured out into the show to say goodbye, and the stunning raven-haired Squaller handed her another gift.

"A blue kefta," said the math teacher, shaking her head. "What would she do with that?"

"Maybe she knew a Grisha who died," replied the cook, taking note of the tears that filled the girl's eyes. They did not see the note that read, You will always be one of us.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Ruin and Rising

“I can't do this," Genya whispered. Her face was swollen from crying. Her vibrant hair lay limp down her back.
"You don't have to do anything," Zoya said. "Just be here. Stay standing."
"Not even that."
"I've got you. I won't let you fall.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“I'm sorry we don't visit more often. There's a war on and, well, no one likes you."
The Darkling touched a hand to his chest. "You wound me."
"All in good time," said Zoya.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“Dusk had fallen. Outside the lanterns in the garden were being lit, a string of stars strewn across the grounds. She had missed this room, who Nikolai became in this room, the man who for a moment might let the mantle of king fall away, who trusted her enough to close his eyes and fall in to dreams as she stood watch. She needed to get back to the Little Palace, check on Princess Ehri, talk to Tamar, forge a plan. But this might be the last time she saw him this way.

At last she rose and turned down the lights.

"Don't go," he said, still half asleep.

"I have to bathe. I smell like a forest fire."

"You smell like wildflowers. You always do. What can I say to make you stay?" His words trailed off in to a drowsy mumble as he fell back asleep.

Tell me it's more than war and worry that makes you speak those words. Tell me what they would mean if you weren't a king and I weren't a soldier. But she didn't want to hear any of that, not really. Sweet words and grand declarations were for other people, other lives.

She brushed the hair back from his face, planted a kiss on his forehead. "I would stay forever if I could," she whispered. He wouldn't remember anyway.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“Did you sleep?" she asked.
"Of course not. Someday we'll see an end to war, and then you and I will take a nap together."
"Is that your idea of seduction?"
"These days? Yes."
"I'll be honest- it's incredibly compelling.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“I would choose you." The words were out before he thought better of them, and there was no way to pull them back.
Silence stretched between them. Perhaps the floor will open and I'll plummet to my death, he thought hopefully.
"As your general?" Her voice careful. She was offering him a chance to right the ship, to take them back to familiar waters.
And a fine general you are.
There could be no better leader.
You may be prickly, but that what Ravka needs.
So many easy replies.
Instead he said, "As my queen."
He couldn't read her expression. Was she pleased? Embarrassed? Angry? Every cell in his body screamed for him to crack a joke, to free both of them from the peril of the moment. But he wouldn't. He was still a privateer, and he'd come too far.
"Because I'm a dependable soldier," she said, but she didn't sound sure. It was the same cautious, tentative voice, the voice of someone waiting for a punch line, or maybe a blow. "Because I know all of your secrets."
"I do trust you more than myself sometimes- and I think very highly of myself."
Hadn't she said there was no one else she'd choose to have her back in a fight?
But that isn't the whole truth, is it, you great cowardly lump. To hell with it. They might all die soon enough. They were safe here in the dark, surrounded by the hum of engines.
"I would make you my queen because I want you. I want you all the time."
She rolled on to her side, resting her head on her folded arm. A small movement, but he could feel her breath now. His heart was racing. "As your general, I should tell you that would be a terrible decision."
He turned on to his side. They were facing each other now. "As your king, I should tell you that no one could dissuade me. No prince and no power could make me stop wanting you."
Nikolai felt drunk. Maybe unleashing the demon had loosed something in his brain. She was going to laugh at him. She would knock him senseless and tell him he had no right. But he couldn't seem to stop.
"I would give you a crown if I could," he said. "I would show you the world from the prow of a ship. I would choose you, Zoya. As my general, as my friend, as my bride. I would give you a sapphire the size of an acorn." He reached in to his pocket. "And all I would ask in return is that you wear this damnable ribbon in your hair on our wedding day."
She reached out, her fingers hovering over the coil of blue velvet ribbon resting in his palm.
Then she pulled back her hand, cradling her fingers as if they'd been singed.
"You will wed a Taban sister who craves a crown," she said. "Or a wealthy Kerch girl, or maybe a Fjerdan royal. You will have heirs and a future. I'm not the queen Ravka needs."
"And if you're the queen I want?"
...
She sat up, drew her knees in, wrapped her arms around them as if she would make a shelter of her own body. He wanted to pull her back down beside him and press his mouth to hers. He wanted her to look at him again with possibility in her eyes. "But that's not who I am. Whatever is inside me is sharp and gray as the thorn wood." She rose and dusted off her kefta. "I wasn't born to be a bride. I was made to be a weapon."
Nikolai forced himself to smile. It wasn't as if he'd offered her a real proposal. They both knew such a thing was impossible. And yet her refusal smarted just as badly as if he'd gotten on his knee and offered her his hand like some kind of besotted fool. It stung. All saints, it stung.
"Well," he said cheerfully, pushing up on his elbows and looking up at her with all the wry humour he could muster. "Weapons are good to have around too. Far more useful than brides and less likely to mope about the palace. But if you won't rule Ravka by my side, what does the future hold, General?"
Zoya opened the door to the Cargo hold. Light flooded in gilding her features when she looked back at him. "I'll fight on beside you. As your general. As your friend. Because whatever my failings, I know this. You are the king Ravka needs.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“You look absurd in that outfit."
"Absurdly dashing, I agree.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“Are you thinking of killing me, Zoya?"
"Yes."
"Your king wouldn't be pleased."
"I'm not going to do it," she lied. "I just enjoy thinking about it. It's soothing, like humming myself a little melody.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“Because I am greedy for the sight of you. Because the prospect of facing this war, this loss, without you fills me with fear. Because I find I don't want to fight for a future if I can't find a way to make a future with you. But he was a king and she was his general and he could say none of those things.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply. "How is it I smell like goose shit and cheap whiskey, and you smell like you just ran through a meadow of wildflowers?"
"Ruthlessness."
He breathed in again. "What is that scent? It reminds me of something, but I can't place what."
"The last child you tried to eat?"
"That must be it.”
― Leigh Bardugo, King of Scars

“Turns out the easiest way to schedule a meeting is to get arrested," said Zoya.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Ruin and Rising

“Fear is a phoenix... You can watch it burn a thousand times and still it will return.”
― Leigh Bardugo, King of Scars

“It's all prickles and spines and anger, covered in pretty, useless blossoms and fruit too bitter to eat. There is nothing in it worth loving."
"How wrong you are."
Zoya's gaze snapped to his, her eyes flashing silver- dragon's eyes. "Am I?"
"Look at the way it grows, protecting everything within these walls, stronger than anything else in the garden, weathering every season. No matter the winter it endures, it blooms again and again."
"What if the winter is just too long and hard? What if it can't bloom again?"
He was afraid to reach for her, but he did it anyway. He took her gloved hand in his. She didn't pull away but folded in to him like a flower closing its petals at nightfall. He wrapped his arm around her. Zoya seemed to hesitate, and then with a soft breath, she let herself lean against him. Zoya the deadly. Zoya the ferocious. The weight of her against him like a benediction. He had been strong for his country, his soldiers, his friends. It meant something different to be strong for her.
"Then you'll be branches without blossom," he whispered against her hair. "And you'll let the rest of us be strong until the summer comes."
"It wasn't a metaphor."
"Of course it wasn't.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“Toss him over," Zoya said. "Break his heart cruelly. I will gladly give our poor prince comfort, and I would make a magnificent queen.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Ruin and Rising

“I like to keep you on your toes, Nazyalensky. Constant anxiety does wonders for your complexion."
"I'll send you a thank-you card."
"Make sure of it. You're positively glowing.”
― Leigh Bardugo, King of Scars

“Is this the part where we die well?"...
"No, this is the part where the king of Ravka surrenders himself, and the love we never had lives on in ballads and song."
"Nikolai," snapped Zoya, "don't you dare.”
― Leigh Bardugo, King of Scars

“Everyone is so concerned with the naming of their wounds and the tending of them," she said. "It's tiresome.”
― Leigh Bardugo, King of Scars

“She could feel the force of a stampede in the body beneath her, the heaving power of a storm-tossed sea.”
― Leigh Bardugo, King of Scars

“It felt like falling. Zoya was the stone, and there was no bottom to the well, no end to the emptiness inside her.”
― Leigh Bardugo, King of Scars

“They have an ordinary life, full of ordinary things - if love can ever be called that.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Ruin and Rising

“You haven't seen me mean. When you do, you'll require a very big hanky."
He snorted. "To dry my tears?"
"To staunch the bleeding.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Ruin and Rising

“Better to be a woman alone than a woman beholden to some old man who can't manage a wife his own age.”
― Leigh Bardugo, King of Scars

“What they had endured on the fold had connected them in some way, and he knew he would see Zoya when he turned- yet the sight of her struck like a sudden change in the weather. A drop in temperature, the crackle of electricity in the air, the feeling of a storm coming on.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“I would choose you." The words were out before he thought better of them, and there was no way to pull them back.
Silence stretched between them. Perhaps the floor will open and I'll plummet to my death, he thought hopefully.
"As your general?" Her voice careful. She was offering him a chance to right the ship, to take them back to familiar waters.
And a fine general you are.
There could be no better leader.
You may be prickly, but that's what Ravka needs.
So many easy replies.
Instead he said, "As my queen."
He couldn't read her expression. Was she pleased? Embarrassed? Angry? Every cell in his body screamed for him to crack a joke, to free both of them from the peril of the moment. But he wouldn't. He was still a privateer, and he'd come too far.
"Because I'm a dependable soldier," she said, but she didn't sound sure. It was the same cautious, tentative voice, the voice of someone waiting for a punch line, or maybe a blow. "Because I know all of your secrets."
"I do trust you more than myself sometimes- and I think very highly of myself."
Hadn't she said there was no one else she'd choose to have her back in a fight?
But that isn't the whole truth, is it, you great cowardly lump. To hell with it. They might all die soon enough. They were safe here in the dark, surrounded by the hum of engines.
"I would make you my queen because I want you. I want you all the time."
She rolled on to her side, resting her head on her folded arm. A small movement, but he could feel her breath now. His heart was racing. "As your general, I should tell you that would be a terrible decision."
He turned on to his side. They were facing each other now. "As your king, I should tell you that no one could dissuade me. No prince and no power could make me stop wanting you."
Nikolai felt drunk. Maybe unleashing the demon had loosed something in his brain. She was going to laugh at him. She would knock him senseless and tell him he had no right. But he couldn't seem to stop.
"I would give you a crown if I could," he said. "I would show you the world from the prow of a ship. I would choose you, Zoya. As my general, as my friend, as my bride. I would give you a sapphire the size of an acorn." He reached in to his pocket. "And all I would ask in return is that you wear this damnable ribbon in your hair on our wedding day."
She reached out, her fingers hovering over the coil of blue velvet ribbon resting in his palm.
Then she pulled back her hand, cradling her fingers as if they'd been singed.
"You will wed a Taban sister who craves a crown," she said. "Or a wealthy Kerch girl, or maybe a Fjerdan royal. You will have heirs and a future. I'm not the queen Ravka needs."
"And if you're the queen I want?"...
She sat up, drew her knees in, wrapped her arms around them as if she would make a shelter of her own body. He wanted to pull her back down beside him and press his mouth to hers. He wanted her to look at him again with possibility in her eyes. "But that's not who I am. Whatever is inside me is sharp and gray as the thorn wood." She rose and dusted off her kefta. "I wasn't born to be a bride. I was made to be a weapon."
Nikolai forced himself to smile. It wasn't as if he'd offered her a real proposal. They both knew such a thing was impossible. And yet her refusal smarted just as badly as if he'd gotten on his knee and offered her his hand like some kind of besotted fool. It stung. All saints, it stung.
"Well," he said cheerfully, pushing up on his elbows and looking up at her with all the wry humour he could muster. "Weapons are good to have around too. Far more useful than brides and less likely to mope about the palace. But if you won't rule Ravka by my side, what does the future hold, General?"
Zoya opened the door to the Cargo hold.Light flooded in gilding her features when she looked back at him. "I'll fight on beside you. As your general. As your friend. Because whatever my failings, I know this. You are the king Ravka needs.”
― Leigh Bardugo

“He excelled at decisions. He enjoyed them. It was like clearing the deadfall from the forest so that you could see an open path. But when he thought of choosing a wife, the branches crowded in on him and he found himself glad to be left alone in the dark. Perhaps not alone, precisely. He very much enjoyed the quiet of this room, the warmth of the fire, and the steel-spined harpy seated across from him.”
― Leigh Bardugo, King of Scars

“Bless her poison tongue. "You could stay, Zoya. Entertain me with lively tales of your childhood. I find your spite very soothing."
"Why don't I ask Tolya to soothe you by reciting some poetry."
"There it is. So sharp, so acerbic. Better than any lullaby.”
― Leigh Bardugo, King of Scars

“Is this the part where we die well?"...
"No, this is the part where the king of Ravka surrenders himself, and the love we never had lives on in ballads and song."
"Nikolai," snapped Zoyz, "don't you dare.”
― Leigh Bardugo, King of Scars

“You do realize you just referred to yourself as the queen. That means you agreed.
I am going to kill you.
So long as you kiss me again before you do.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Rule of Wolves

“It's that or execution, my dove. Think of it this way: you won't be hanged, but the price is a life of luxury and my sparkling company."
"You might consider the gallows," said Zoya. "Quicker and less painful.”
― Leigh Bardugo, King of Scars