Quotes Galore : A Court of Frost and Starlight (ACOTAR #3.1)

Quotes Galore : A Court of Frost and Starlight (ACOTAR #3.1)


Our High Lord and High Lady of Night Court is back, ladies and gentlemen.

It has been long awaited, and finally the book is here!

A Court of Frost and Starlight is short, only about 150 pages long, but it manages to pack it all our beloved characters from ACOTAR. I have just finished reading this book not too long ago, and despite me having a few problems with it – you can watch my review here  there are still a lot of quotes I love from this book and would love to share some of them with you.

So without further ado,enjoy!





“But what you two have, Rhys … It’s the legends, the lies, they spin us when we’re children. About the glory and wonder of the mating bond. I thought it was all bullshit. Then you two came along.”


“Fifteen thousand years, she had been stuck in this world.
And had not loved, not in the way that could alter history, alter fate, until that silver-haired Prince of Adriata.”


“Maybe we should tell Mor to delay the meeting at the Court of Nightmares.” I frowned.
He shucked off his jacket, the leathers thumping as they landed on the desk chair. “Why? If Eris will indeed be there, I’d like to surprise him with a little visit of my own.”


“You look exhausted, that’s why.”


He put a dramatic hand over his heart. “Your concern warms me more than any winter fire, my love.”


Rhys sat, folding his wings behind him before reaching to pull me into his lap, but I dodged his hands and kept a healthy distance away. “Eat the food first.”

“Then I’ll eat you after,” he countered, grinning wickedly.


“I cannot forgive anyone who made you suffer.”
Cold, brutal words, spoken with such casual grace.

“You were born on the longest night of the year.” His fingers again stroked down my back. Lower. “You were meant to be at my side from the very beginning.”


“You drove me out of my mind. All those months. I still don’t quite believe I get to have this. Have you.”
My throat tightened. That was the thought he wanted to trade, needed to share. “I wanted you, even Under the Mountain,” I said softly. “I chalked it up to those horrible circumstances, but after we killed her, when I couldn’t tell anyone how I felt—about how truly bad things were, I still told you. I’ve always been able to talk to you. I think my heart knew you were mine long before I ever realized it.”


His eyes gleamed, and he buried his face between my breasts again, hands caressing my back. “I love you,” he breathed. “More than life, more than my territory, more than my crown.”


“We’re strong for High Fae,” I mused, fighting to concentrate as he tugged on my earlobe with his teeth, “but a week straight of sex? I don’t think I’d be able to walk. Or you’d be able to function, at least with your favorite part.”

He nipped the delicate arch of my ear, and my toes curled. “Then you’ll just have to kiss my favorite part and make it better.”

“He’d seen Nesta in that particular pose, too. He called it her I Will Slay My Enemies pose.
Cassian had named about two dozen poses for Nesta at this point. Ranging from I Will Eat Your Eyes for Breakfast to I Don’t Want Cassian to Know I’m Reading Smut. The latter was his particular favorite.”


Everything all right?


A casual, soft question, the cadence of Rhys’s voice soothing the tremors along my nerves.


I don’t know if I can do this.


Rhys was quiet for a moment. Do you want me to come with you?


To paint?


I’d be an excellent nude model.


“I suppose you think I should be thanking you, for stepping up to assist in reviving me.”


“I have no illusions that the day you thank me for anything, Rhysand, is the day the burning fires of hell go cold.”




“I should have been the bigger male.”


“You’re the bigger male most days. You’re entitled to a slipup.” She smiled broadly. Bright as the full moon, lovelier than any star.


Rhys set the cake on the low-lying table before the fire. 

It was then that I realized what the three different tiers had been painted to look like.
On the top: flowers. In the middle: flames.
And on the bottom, widest layer … stars.
The same design of the chest of drawers I’d once painted in that dilapidated cottage. One for each of us—each sister. Those stars and moons sent to me, my mind, by my mate, long before we’d ever met.
“I asked Nuala to do it in that order,” Elain said as the others gathered round. “Because you’re the foundation, the one who lifts us. You always have been.”


You are beautiful, he whispered down the bond.


So are you.


I know.


I laughed, pulling away. Prick.


“Nesta paused just past the low iron gate, her face cold and pale as moonlight.
Beautiful. Even with the weight loss, she was as beautiful standing in the snow as she’d been the first time he’d laid eyes on her in her father’s house.
And infinitely more deadly. In so many ways.”


I have no regrets in my life, but this. That we did not have time.


Cassian shut out the words. Shut out the image that chased him from his dreams, night after night: not Nesta holding up the King of Hybern’s head like a trophy; not the way her father’s neck had twisted in Hybern’s hands. But the image of her leaning over him, covering Cassian’s body with her own, ready to take the full brunt of the king’s power for him. To die for him—with him. 


“But Nesta only stared at him, her nose crinkling. Stared, then snorted—and walked away.
As if he were nothing. As if he weren’t worth her time. The effort.
A low-born Illyrian bastard.
This time, when she continued onward, Cassian didn’t follow.”


He remained staring after her, that present in his hands.
Cassian’s fingertips dug into the soft wood of the small box.
He was grateful the streets were empty when he hurled that box into the Sidra. Hurled it hard enough that the splash echoed off the buildings flanking the river, ice cracking from the impact.
Ice instantly re-formed over the hole he’d blown open. As if it, and the present, had never been.


“But mostly I think about this. How you feel around me, Feyre.” He drove into me, exquisite and relentless. “How you taste on my tongue.” My nails cut into his broad shoulders. “How even if we have a thousand years together, I will never tire of this.


“Even an immortal’s lifetime of painting wouldn’t be enough to capture every facet of him. Of us.”


“Never enough. Not to paint him, know him. Eons would never be enough for all I wanted to do, see with him. For all I wanted to love him.”


He again gestured to the magnificent estate around us. “So build a house for us, Feyre. Dream as wildly as you want. It’s yours.”


Rhys kissed me again, breathless and swift. To the stars who listen, Feyre.
I brushed a hand over his cheek to wipe away the last of his tears, his skin warm and soft, and we turned down the street that would lead us home. Toward our future—and all that waited within it.
To the dreams that are answered, Rhys.




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