" Locke brings me a thimbleful of liquor, and I take a tiny scalding sip for
the sake of politeness. I start coughing immediately. At that moment,
Cardan’s gaze goes to me. His eyes are barely open, but I can see the shine of
them, wet as tar. He watches me as the girl kisses his mouth, watches me as
she slides her hand beneath the hem of his silly, ruffly shirt. "

― Holly Black , The Cruel Prince (The Folk of the Air, #1)