“What is wrong with the [tale of] Two Swords?" he asked, even more surprised. "Don't you care for it?""There is too bloody much romance in it," she said curtly.Ah, well, here was the crux of it, apparently. "Don't you like romance?" he ventured.She looked as though she were trying to decide if she should weep or, as he had earlier predicted, stick him with whatever blade she could lay her, hand on. "I don't know," she said briskly."I see," he said, though he didn't. He wished, absently, that he'd had at least one sister. He was very well versed in what constituted courtly behavior and appropriate formal wooing practices, thanks to his father's insistence on many such lectures delivered by a dour man whose only acquaintance with women had likely come from reading about them in a book, but he had absolutely no idea how to proceed with a woman whose first instinct when faced with something that made her uncomfortable was to draw her sword...."I'll stop provoking you, but I will have the answer to a question. Why do you think most men woo?""Because they have no sword skill and need something with which to occupy their time?”

“Though she hated to stop kissing, Luce held Daniel's warm face in her hands. She gazed into his violet eyes, trying to draw strength."I'm sorry," she said. "For running off like I did.""Don't be," he said,slowly and with absolute sincerity. "You had to go. It was preordained; it had to happen." He smiled again. "We did what we needed to do,Lucinda."A jet of warmth shot through her,making her dizzy. "I was starting to think I'd never see you again.""How many times have I told you that I will always find you?”

“He said, and his voice was strained as if he had had a mortal wound, 'Gwenhwyfar-' He so seldom spoke her formal name, it was always my lady or my queen, or when he spoke to her in play it was always Gwen. When he spoke it now, it seemed to her she had never heard a sweeter sound. 'Gwenhwyfar. Why do you weep?'Now she must lie, and lie well, because, she could not in honor tell him the truth. She said, 'Because-' and stopped, and then, in a choking voice, she said, 'because I do not know how I shall live if you go away.”

“He lifed his head and looked down at her seriously. "Could you," he began, then he had to clear his throat. "Could you learn to be fond of me?" he asked. "With enough time?"She looked at him in surprise. It was the first time in all their acquaintance that she'd heard him sound the least bit hesitant. "I don't need to learn anything," she said, before she thought better of it.”

“Her gaze met his, her green eyes glazed and filled with shadows. "I-Iain?" Iain understood those shadows only too well. She was in shock. She had witnessed the full horror of war. Worse, she had killed a man. Like a young soldier after his first battle, she was struggling to cope. 'Twas an anguish no woman should have to bear.His rage broke like the tide against the shore, and before he could think, he pulled her hard against him, held her, stroked her hair. "You foolish, brave woman! Why do you no' obey me?" "What the bloody hell is he doin'?" Connor asked from somewhere behind them. Morgan answered, "I think he's punishin' her." "If he tries this on the men, they'll mutiny.”

“What happened to your face?' he asked. 'When I was little, my grandmother was making candles and she had a big vat of hot beeswax in the backyard,' she said. 'I walked into the vat.' Usually that ended the conversation. 'I don't remember it,' she added. 'How old were you?' he asked. She tilted her face slightly, watching him. 'Ten months.' 'You were walking at ten months?' he asked. 'Not very well, apparently,' she said dryly.”