“Lifaen beamed and cried, “Isn’t she glorious? See how her scales catch the light! No treasure in the world can match this sight.” Similar exclamations floated across the river from Narí.“Bloody unbearable, that’s what it is,” muttered Orik into his beard. Eragon hid a smile, though he agreed with the dwarf. The elves never seemed to tire of praising Saphira.Nothing’s wrong with a few compliments, said Saphira. She landed with a gigantic splash and submerged her head to escape a diving sparrow.Of course not, said Eragon.Saphira eyed him from underwater. Was that sarcasm?”

“How can I judge?" she said at last. "To me, he is a hero. To the world a monster." She let her head fall into her arms and started crying quietly. "I miss him! Curse him! I miss him!"Mithorden put a hand on her shoulder and let her cry for a few minutes. A sad smile slowly spread across his face. "I'm glad you can forgive him," he said at last.Luthiel lifted her head. "How do you know?"Because you miss him.”

“I already have one Sheepbiter here,” said Eragon, and laid a hand on Saphira. “Why would I need another?”Angela broke out into a wide smile. “So you’re not entirely devoid of wit after all! There just might be hope for you.” And she danced off toward the keep, twirling her doublebladed staff by her side and muttering, “Fire? Bah!”A soft growl emanated from Saphira, and she said, Be careful whom you call Sheepbiter, Eragon, or you might get bitten yourself. Yes, Saphira.”

“If he fancied her anymore,' Saphira said to both Eragon and Roran, 'I'd be trying to kiss Arya myself.''Saphira!' Mortified, Eragon swatted her on the leg.”

“Fear you?" she said without thinking. "Good God, I would never do that."Easing her head back, Westcliff looked at her while a slow smile spread across his face. "No, you wouldn't," he agreed. "You'd spit in the devil's eye if it suited you.”

“Miss Bridgerton,” he said, “the devil himself couldn’t scare you.”She forced her eyes to meet his. “That’s not a compliment, is it?”He lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a feather-light kiss across her knuckles. “You’ll have to figure that out for yourself,” he murmured.To all who observed, he was the soul of propriety, but Hyacinth caught the daring gleam in his eye, and she felt the breath leave her body as tingles of electricity rushed across her skin. Her lips parted, but she had nothing to say, not a single word. There was nothing but air, and even that seemed in short supply.And then he straightened as if nothing had happened and said, “Do let me know what you decide.”She just stared at him.“About the compliment,” he added. “I am sure you will wish to let me know how I feel about you.”Her mouth fell open.He smiled. Broadly. “Speechless, even. I’m to be commended.”“You—”“No. No,” he said, lifting one hand in the air and pointing toward her as if what he really wanted to do was place his finger on her lips and shush her. “Don’t ruin it. The moment is too rare.”