“I've got to go." "Go where?" "To go. I'd have just taken care of it myself, but it looks like you want to come along." Mott cursed. "Wait for morning." "Wish I could. I've been cursed with my mother's pea-size bladder.”

“You are the biggest fool of a boy I've ever known," Mott said. Then his tone softened. "But you will serve Carthya well.""I wish I felt ready to do this," I said. "The closer we come to the moment, the more I see every defect in my character that caused my parents to send me away in the first place.""From all I'm told, the prince they sent away was selfish, mischievous, and destructive. The king who returns is courageous, noble, and strong.""And a fool," I addedMott chuckled. "You are that too.”

“Conner answered, "Mrs. Turbeldy warned me that you have a history of running away. Where did you go?" To the church of course. To confess my sins.”

“I thought you were from a civilized country," he said. "How have you come to look more like Carthya's whipping boy than its king?""I have a habit of irritating some of our less civilized people," I answered. "But you seem like a civilized...pirate. I'd much prefer it if you didn't have me whipped.""And why shouldn't I?"With some effort, I forced a smile to my face. "Because it will hurt.”

“Do you laugh at me?"He was quiet for a moment and finally the tention drained from him. "No, Jaron," he said darkly. "I curse you with every breath I exhale, but I do not laugh.”

“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.”

“No, my lady. If I cannot look at you as an equal, i will not look at you at all”