“Sam smiled, his brown eyes turning golden in the dawn. It was such a Sam look, the twinkle of mischief, the hint of exasperation, the kindness that would always, always make him a better person than she was.”

“Mikhail truly liked Ansel-that much was obvious. he always found excuses to touch her, always smiled at her, always looked at her as if she were the only person in the room. Celeana sloshed her wine around in her glass. If she were being honest, sometimes she thought Sam looked at her that way. But then he'd go and say something absurd, or try to undermine her, and she'd chide herself for even thinking about him. Her stomach tightened. What had Arobynn done to him that night? She should have inquired after him. But in the day's after him, she's been so busy, wrapped up in her rage... She hadn't dared look for him, actually. Because if Arobynn had hurt Sam the way he'd hurt her... Celeana drained the rest of her wine.”

“Celaena." She looked back at him, her red gown sweeping around her. His eyes shone as he flashed her a crooked grin. "I missed you this summer."She met his stare unflinchingly, returning the smile as she said, "I hate to admit it, Sam Cortland, but I missed your sorry ass, too.”

“Well, he was certainly desirable-as desirable as Sam, maybe. Sam-when had she ever thought of him as desirable? He'd laugh until he died if ever knew she thought of him like that.”

“The undergarments were plain-and folded. Who folded their undergarments? Celeana thought of her enormous closet back home, exploding with colour and different fabrics and patterns, all tossed together. Her undergarments, while expensive, usually wound up in a heap in their drawer. Sam, probably, folded his undergarments. Though, depending on how much of him Arobynn left intact, he might not be able to now. Arobynn would never permanently main her, but Sam might have faired worse. Sam had always been the expendable one.”

“I love you," Sam said.Celaena wrapped her arms around him and held him close, breathing his scent. Her only reply was, "I hate packing.”

“In the silence of her bedroom, she swore an oath to the moonlight that if Sam were hurt, no force in the world would hold her back from slaughtering everyone responsible.”