“You aren't a bit romantic, are you?" he asked, amused.She sat back and stared at him. She was beginning to think that Neal required a keeper. He seemed to have the craziest ideas. "Romance? Isn't that love stuff?" She asked finally."It's more than just love. It's color, and-and fire. You don't want things magnificent and filled with-with grandeur," he said, trying to make her understand. "You know, drama. Importance. Transcendent Passion.""I just want to be a knight," Kel retorted, putting her used tableware on her tray. "Eat your vegetables. They're good for you.”

“I love you, Jonathan," she whispered.A long arm snaked around her, and he pulled her against his side."I know," he said. "I just wanted to be sure you knew it, too.”

“Wouldn't--" Kel began to say, but the words stuck in her mouth. She swallowed and tried again. "Wouldn't it be well, not nice to flirt with somebody you don't want to fall in love with?”

“Mithros's spear, Kel!" he exclaimed. "When did you turn into a real girl?""You said she was a girl already," muttered one of his cousins..."But not a girl-girl, with a chest and all!" protested Owen...."I've been a girl for a while, Owen," Kel informed him."I never realized," her too outspoken friend replied. "It's not like you've got melons or anything, they're just noticeable.”

“Gran, for the gods' love, it's talk like yours that starts riots!" I said keeping my voice down. "Will you just put a stopper in it?"She looked at me and sighed. "Girl, do you ever take a breath and wonder if folk don't put out bait for you? To see if you'll bite? You'll never get a man if you don't relax."My dear old Gran. It's a wonder her children aren't every one of them as mad as priests, if she mangles their wits as she mangles mine."Granny, "I told her, "this is dead serious. I can't relax, no more than any Dog. I'm not shopping for a man. That's the last thing I need.”

“I suppose he could have changed," Neal said dryly. "I myself have noticed my growing resemblance to a daffodil." The other pages snorted. Kel eyed her friend. "You do look yellow around the edges," she told him, her face quite serious. "I hadn’t wanted to bring it up." "We daffodils like to have things brought up," Neal said, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "It reminds us of spring.”

“You are a terrifying creature," the Voice told her solemnly. "You do not take your place in your father's tent, letting men make your decisions for you. You ride as a man, you fight as a man, and you think as a man --""I think as a human being," she retorted hotly. "Men don't think any differently from women -- they just make more fuss about being able to.”