“Are you going to distract me by playing footsie?""Absolutely, princess," he says with a wink. "Then I won't remember a thing.""It's a samurai training technique," he teases, spinning the test prep book toward him. "I distract you as much as possible right now." He slides the book into his lap. "And you'll learn how to test through anything.”

“I'm going to teach you to ride Princess." "Princess?" "My motorcycle." I laugh. "You named your motorcycle Princess?" "What can I say?" he teases. "I call all my favorite things princess.”

“I say it instead. "You told so," I admit. "You told me my image of Brody wasn't real, and you were right. I was just too blind to see it." He laughs a little. "You were to blind to see a lot of things Princess." It's reassuring when he calls me Princess-as opposed to princess or, worse, Lily. One seems too mocking, the other too intimate. His ironic nickname feels safe.”

“Quince leans in over the map, studying, and I think he’s going to ask me something about the kingdoms or my plan or Daddy’s trident.Instead, without taking his eyes off the map, he asks, “What happens if I fail?”“What?” I whisper.“If I don’t pass the three tests,” he says. “What’s the consequence?”I suck in a shaky breath. This is the part I didn’t want to talk about, the part I hoped he wouldn’t ask about. But I guess he’s too clever—or has learned too much about how mer-world magic works—to assume there won’t be a price.There is, and it’s a big one.“If you fail,” I say, keeping my voice steady, “then you are banished from the water forever.”He lifts his Caribbean-blue eyes to stare into mine. “And?”“And?” I echo.“I know that can’t be it,” he says. “Nothing in your world is ever that simple.”A part of my heart breaks when he calls it my world. I want it to feel like his world, too. But now isn’t the time. He’s right; there’s more to the consequence of failure than him being exiled.“And . . . ,” I say, wishing I didn’t have to tell him this, “I’ll be banished from land.” I swallow hard. “Forever.”He stares into my eyes, unblinking, and I can’t read any sort of reaction. His mind is racing, I’m sure, but everything on the outside is a stone facade.Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he says, “Then I won’t fail.”

“I don't believe it,' Quince says with absolute certainty. ' I don't believe anything magical can make someone more in love.' [...] He looks me right in the eye as he says, 'Love is already the strongest magic in the world.”

“How do you always know just what to say?" I ask. His laugh rumbles through me. "Practice, I guess."I pull back and give him a quizzical look."I spent three years imagining what I would say to you if you were mine," he says, tugging me close. "I should hope I know what to say now that I've got you.”

“I am interested in you, Gretchen." When I still won't look at him, he presses his fingers against my jaw and gently turns my face. He is looking straight in my eyes when he says, "I'm interested in you."His midnight blues burn with an intensity that almost makes me believe him. Makes me want to believe him. He knows just the right thing to say to mess with my mind. He always has. He leans closer, watching me. His lips are a breath away from mine.This time I'm not buying it.My knee connects with his soft spot and he doubles over, gasping for air."Find your own way home," I snap before turning and marching back to my car.”