Everything rests on the poisoned wine. If it were just the queen, I could force it down her gullet, but Declan Broekhart would run me through with that damned ceremonial sword, and if his wife's stares were daggers, he'd be dead already.

Of course. Opal is toying with our emotions for her own gratification. Nothing more. She wishes to place herself in a position of power, emotionally.

Holly, do you trust me?” Holly groaned. “Artemis, don’t ask me that. I just know one of your outrageous plans is coming.” “Do you trust me?” “Yes,” Holly sighed. “I do. More than anyone.

Me," Artemis blurted. "I'm the nut." Artemis could have sworn the squid winked at him before bringing the five-ton chunk of spacecraft swinging down toward the morsel of meat in its blue shell. "I'm the nut!" Artemis shouted again, a little hysterically, it must be said.

Boo-hoo. Help me, I'm a girl. What kind of modern woman are you? A smart one.

The problem is that I know the textbook answers to any question you care to ask.

There is always a use for everything, Victor had told him. Even pain.