“I'll be your minister--""Of the exchequer? You'd rob me blind.""I would never steal from you," he'd said hotly."Oh? Where is my tourmaline necklace? Where are my missing earrings?""That necklace was hideous. It was the only way to keep you from wearing it.""My earrings?""What earrings?”

“Are you badly hurt?""Hideously," said the king, without sounding injured at all. "I am disemboweled. My insides may in an instant become my outsides as I stand here before you.”

“No," he said. "Relius was right and I was wrong. You are My Queen. Even though you cut my head from my shoulders, with my last breath as a noose tightens, to the last beat of my heart if I hang from the walls of the palace, you are My Queen. That I have failed you does not change my love for you or my loyalty.”

“Why didn't you tell me to take Attolia's advice from the beginning?""I thought you should figure it out. What you learn for yourself, you will know forever," said Eugenides."Pol used to say that," said Sounis, surprised."I learned it from him. I just wish to my god that I had his patience for the process.”

“Why did you come if not to murder my king?""I came to steal his magus.""You can't," said the magus in question."I can steal anything," Eugenides corrected him, "even with one hand.”

“I'm sorry, Dite."Dite shrugged away the apology. "You have spared my brother when you could have killed him and you have offered me escape from the cesspit of my family and this court. You know what it means to me, to make music in the court of Ferria. You've put a purse and an impossible dream in my hand. I don't know why you should apologize.""Because I am exiling you, Dite. I intend to raze your patrimony and salt its earth. You emphatically do not need to thank me.”

“The clear light of the library was slanting in through the glass-paneled doorway to my right, falling on the table between my tutor and me and on dust motes hung in the air. The tiny flecks drew my eye, and I watched as they dipped and swirled in invisible currents."They are beautiful in the light, are they not?" my tutor asked. They were, catching the sun and shining like tiny stars themselves. "You know, there are just as many outside the sun's rays that are invisible," she said. Then, in the way of dreams, she lifted her hand into the air and moved a single dust mote into the light. "And you?" she asked. She lifted her hand again, just beyond the edge of the light, and I knew she held another mote and could move it as easily into the way of the sun, and I said, "No, thank you. I am content where I am.”