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He looked at their shabby clothes in puzzlement. “We were traveling anonymously for safety—” explained the magus. “But surely—” “—and then we were robbed on the road.” “Ah,” said the king, “the danger in being anonymous.

Megan Whalen Turner

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Megan Whalen Turner
Age: 59
Born: 1965
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Road
Shabby
Kings
Robbed
Looked
Anonymous
Clothes
Explained
Danger
Traveling
Surely
Magus
Safety
Puzzlement
King
Anonymously

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The room was quiet, the others flicking glances at me. I ignored them. After years in Sounis's palaces being eyed with disgust by my uncle and my own father and courtier after courtier, I assure you I am unrivaled at pretending not to notice other people's glances.
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No 'Glory shall be your reward' for me. Oh, no, for me, it is, 'Stop whining' and 'Go to bed'.
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Then come out, said the king, helping him, knowing you'll never die of a fall unless the god himself drops you.
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She pulled the bedclothes up as far as they would go and suppressed a perverse wish to have her old nurse come to chase away the darkness, perverse because she didn't know if she wanted the shadows to be empty or not.
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...That he'd seen...two people, a young man and a woman, sitting on invisible furniture with their feet up, reading books and eating chocolates.
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Who was the Thief that she would love him? A youth, just a boy with hardly a beard and no sense at all... A liar, she thought, an enemy, a threat. He was brave, a voice inside her said, he was loyal... A fool, she answered back. A fool and a dead one. She ached with emptiness.
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I can't leave her there all alone, surrounded by stone walls... She's too precious to give up.
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On the bed, Eugenides stirred restlessly. Upset at the sight of blood? he said. Not my wife, Ornon. Your blood, the ambassador pointed out. Eugenides glanced at the hook on his arm and conceded the point. Yes, he said. He seemed lost in memory. The room was quiet.
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I woke with a terrible headache and wobbled around 'till I fell out the window. You what? Fell out the window. That one over there. She [Edwina] gestured to the curtain behind her. I broke my back. My spine is all wobbly now, but it doesn't hurt.
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His forehead was covered by wrinkles brought on by a lot of sun and too much frowning.
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Who am I, that you should love me? You are My Queen, said Eugenides. She sat perfectly still, looking at him without moving as his words dropped like water into dry earth. Do you believe me? he asked. Yes, she answered. Do you love me? Yes. I love you. And she believed him.
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She was the stone-faced queen, then and ever after. She had needed the mask to rule, and she had been glad to have it. She wondered if Eugenides was glad of his.
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He couldn't offend the gods with a pointed stick.
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All I wanted to do was lie in the dry grass with my feet in a ditch forever. I could be a convenient sort of milemarker, I thought. Get to the thief and you know you're halfway to Methana.
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Safety is an illusion, Costis. A Thief might fall at any time, and eventually the day must come when the god will let him. Whether I am on a rafter three stories up or on a staircase three steps up, I am in my god's hands. He will keep me safe, or he will not, here or on the stairs.
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Dying would have been so much easier.
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Are you badly hurt? Hideously, said the king, without sounding injured at all. I am disemboweled. My insides may in an instant become my outsides as I stand here before you.
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Were you lying? I never lie, he said piously. About what? The sand, the snake. For a young man who never lied, he seemed surprisingly unoffended by the question.
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From shadow queen to puppet queen in one rule. That's very impressive. When he rules your country and he tells you he loves you, I hope you believe him. At least that's one lie I didn't tell you.
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The younger one looked to be completely useless.
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