“Congratulations Lord Steldor, Princess Alera, my sympathies.”

“Were he, the great Lord Steldor, another man, I might have spent the afternoon smiling.”

“Alera is not a possession.”

“Your not God, Steldor.”

“I continued down the hallway, past the library, with my eyes downcast, not wanting to talk to anyone. So immersed was I in my misery that I recoiled at the sound of a male voice emanating from just a few paces in front of me. "I know feet are fascinating, Alera, but it's much more sensible to pay attention to where you're going."Steldor stood outside the door to our quarters wearing a cocky and irritating grin, and for the thousandth time that day, I felt myself turning crimson. I stared at him, struggling for a witty rejoinder but unable to produce one."Did you want something, my lord?" I finally asked, forcing a smile that felt like a grimace."I simply wanted to see my beautiful wife," he said, countenance still smug, although his eyes had softened and I suspected the compliment was sincere.”

“It's a time of war, Alera. [...] Nothing is fair, and nothing is right, and it isn't easy to understand or accept.”

“Images of him continued to plague me, unbidden and cruelly tantalising: the mesmerizing blue eyes that compelled me to share with him my most private fears; the feel of his thick, untidy hair as the sunlight split it into myriad shades of gold; the soft laugh that touched my soul; his aloof but unpretentious manner; his confident assurance that I could make my own choices. I shuddered at the thought of Steldor's attitude toward me, for he saw me as only a woman, relegated to supervising that household, planning and executing social events and raising the children. All he really wanted was my presence in his bed, which made me all the more unwilling to comply. Steldor's glance made me uncomfortable, his patronising laugh made me cringe, his condescension frequently led to my humiliation. In Narians arms, I had felt extraordinary happiness; in Steldor's I felt trapped.”