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“Well, come on,' said Hyacinthe. 'Unless you want me to carry you.''

'Carry me? What a delightful offer. You can bear me in your arms like a maiden in a fairy tale.'

Hyacinthe rolls his eyes. 'I can throw you over my shoulder like a sack of grain.'

'Then I suppose I shall walk,' Oak says, hoping he can.”
― Holly Black, The Prisoner’s Throne

“She started down the corridor and then frowned. She glanced at him with his hands clasped at his back, matching her slow footsteps. “What are you doing?â€� “Not carrying you.â€�
Her lips pulled. “I see that. I meant—�
“I am walking with you.â€� He stole a sideways glance at her. “And if you tell me I do not have to, I’m going to carry you.”
― Christi Caldwell, To Redeem a Rake