Quotes About King

I was listening, the king said, aggrieved. I closed my eyes to listen better. What did you hear? I'm not sure, he said. That's why I was listening so closely. I may have to ask the baron to repeat some parts of his report on his grain tax. I am sure you can arrange an appointment. I am sure I can too.

After one moment of gripped immobility, the queen bent to kiss the king lightly on one closed eyelid, then on the other. She said, 'I love your eyes.' She kissed him on either cheek, near the small lobe of his ear. 'I love your ears, and I love'-she paused as she kissed him gently on the lips-'every single one of your ridiculous lies.' The king opened his eyes and smiled at the queen in a companionship that was as unassailable as it was unfathomable.

Muse of poetry, come to his aid, I thought. Could the man produce one more metaphor of husbandry? He seemed to be trying. Green wood, I suggested, but even he sensed that there was something unfortunate about a metaphor for a king in which you dry out your royalty before you set fire to it.

He looked gravely at the king. It isn't an easy thing to give your loyalty to someone you don't know, especially when that person chooses to reveal nothing of himself. But no matter, Your Majesty. You are revealed at last. The king looked down at his nakedness and back at the captain. Was that a joke? he asked.

That one,-he nodded toward the closed door- will rule more than just Attolia before he is done. He is an Annux, a king of kings.

I thought that being king meant I didn't have to kill people myself. I see know that was another misconception.

The queen! someone shouted in alarm, and the King erupted like a wild animal caught in a snare.

He wondered how the Attolians thought Eugenides had managed to become king if he was the idiot they assumed him to be. Perhaps because they had never seen him as the Thief, with his head thrown back and a glint in his eye that made the hair on the back of a man's neck rise up.

In the afternoon, the king and queen sat to hear the business of their kingdom. At least, the queen sat to hear the business; Costis was still not sure what the king was doing.

The prison keeper choose an inopportune time to look around the doorway into the cell. He and the king locked gazes, and the king's eyes narrowed while the prison keeper's widened.

You will make the boy Thief king? he said. When you could have had me? Attolia allowed a slight smile. A fine revenge for the loss of a hand, said the Mede, close to snarling. I will have my sovereignty, said Attolia thinly. Oh, yes, a fine one-handed figurehead he will make, spat Nahuseresh. Then he remembered Attolia's flattery earlier that morning. Or do I insult your lover? he asked. Not a lover, said Attolia. Merely my choice for king.

Darker thoughts crowded in during the deepest hours of the night when he woke listening to the secret mystifying sounds of the sleeping palace. Many nights, the king was there. Pleasant, irrelevant, and distracting, he eased Relius past nightmares and self-recrimination. Some nights he said nothing at all, just comforted with his presence. Other nights he related the events of his day, spewing out his insights and analyses of the Attolian court in a devastatingly funny critique.

If there is anything else you desire, Your—" "I desire"—the king interrupted in a level voice—"never again to see your living face.

I never understood why she didn't marry you. The king settled further into the seat with a snort. Maybe the prospect of being driven out of her mind put her off.

That was inappropriate, said Attolia. Inappropriate? shouted the king. You in your state on your way to war is inappropriate! I did not become inappropriate all by myself! she shouted back. Do you imagine I don't know that?

Nahuseresh tells me I am not king. Well see if he really prefers the Thief.

The king's attendants remained, digesting the fact that their helpless, inept king had promised his wife to destroy the house of Erondites in six months and had done it in ninety-eight days.

In the evening, after we dance, he rarely returns to the throne; he dances with others or he moves from place to place through the room. The court thinks he is trying to be gracious, sharing his attention. Only I see that he moves always toward the empty spot and the court moves always after him. He is like a dog trying to escape its own tail. He indulged himself in one brief moment of privacy and almost died of it. Relius, he hates being king.

Speaking of the king to the queen--He didn't marry you to become king. He became king because he wanted to marry you.

The Attolian king obviously had a deep well of spite and I would've appreciated his low cunning more if I hadn't thought the Attolian was about to wring my neck.

Does he expect me to rise from my death bed to fight with him? the king asked. I thought you said you weren't dying I've reconsidered.

That one"—he nodded toward the closed door—"will rule more than just Attolia before he is done. He is an Annux, a king of kings.

As quiet slowly returned to the palace, Attolia found the king in her bedroom peeling off his wet clothes. Unkingly, she said. My god, I hope so, said the king.

The king shouted I think I've broken something!!! Nothing important, I'm sure. she called back My pride!!! She laughed.