“Treachery," said the Mede."Diplomacy," said Attolia, "in my own name.”

“You will make the boy Thief king?" he said. "When you could have had me?"Attolia allowed a slight smile."A fine revenge for the loss of a hand," said the Mede, close to snarling."I will have my sovereignty," said Attolia thinly."Oh, yes, a fine one-handed figurehead he will make," spat Nahuseresh. Then he remembered Attolia's flattery earlier that morning. "Or do I insult your lover?" he asked."Not a lover," said Attolia. "Merely my choice for king.”

“Would you have your hand back, Eugenides? And lose Attolia? And see Attolia lost to the Mede?'Eugenides's eyes were open. In front of his face the floor was littered with tiny bits of glass that glittered in the candlelight.'You have your answer, Little Thief.”

“Irene-""Don't call me that.""You were the princess Irene the first time we met.""It means 'peace'," Attolia said. "What name could be more inappropriate?""That I be named Helen?" Eddis suggested.The hard lines in Attolia's face eased, and she smiled. Eddis was a far cry from the woman whose beauty had started a war.”

“Because you do not believe?""Oh, no," said Attolia bitterly. "Because I believe and do not choose to worship.”

“How old are you?" said the girl. "What are you doing here? Do you live here? What's your name?" "I don't know," said Bod. "You don't know your name?" said the girl. "Course you do. Everybody knows their own name. Fibber." "I know my name," said Bod. "And I know what I'm doing here. But I don't know the other things you said.”