“Kneel!” he ordered. My head raised in defiance, I stepped forward. “I am Princess Andrea de Montemaior. I will kneel to no one,” I said to the shadows inside.”

“Kneel, please," Connor said. "I wish to study you better."Come as close to me as you'd like," I answered. "Study me here, on my feet.""You won't kneel?""Would a prince?"Conner raised his voice. "You're not a prince until I say so.""I don't need you to say so, sir. As you see me standing here, I am the prince of Carthya.”

“Whatever comes," she said, "cannot alter one thing. If I am a princess in rags and tatters, I can be a princess inside. It would be easy to be a princess if I were dressed in cloth of gold, but it is a great deal more of a triumph to be one all the time when no one knows it.”

“For the record, Irish," he informed her tightly, just in case she got the wrong idea, "I kneel to no one.”

“He shifted, rolled. I ended up kneeling with him beneath me. Boo-ya! I was on top.”

“If she were Catholic, she could kneel, kneel and bow her head inside a church with brilliant stained-glass windows and streaks of golden light falling over her. Yes, oh yes, she would kneel and stretch out her arms, holding to her Amy and Dottie and Bev.”