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“So, yes, I will marry you. Someday. If you'll have me," he said modestly.
"Of course I will, you idiot," I said with a shriek, and threw myself into his arms.”
― Eilis O'Neal, The False Princess

“You can't be just a scribe, or a wizard. Nameless God," he cried, raking a hand through his hair. "I wish they had never found you, never made you think you were the princess. Nothing else, will ever be good enough, not now. You'll never be happy. You'll throw yourself into danger, take it all on yourself, just to prove that they were all wrong about you. And I just-I just-"
And without warning, he stepped on front of me, grabbed my shoulders to stop my pacing, and kissed me.”
― Eilis O'Neal, The False Princess

“But I wonder how much of this crime lies on my shoulders," she added quietly, to herself. "Too slow, too lazy, unable to make decisions... well, the evil is spread around, and some of it may be mine, Princess."
"I. Am not. A princess!" Rapunzel tried to keep her voice under control in deference to the old lady. She ground her teeth to keep from screaming.
"But of course you are," the old lady said in mild surprise. "You are the Crown Princess Rapunzel, daughter of King Frederic and Queen Arianna, heir to the throne.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“She didn't know much about real princesses except for in fairy tales, and books like #27: Legends from the Time of Knights. Gawain and Roland and his tower and the like. Princesses were often the points on which plots turned, the fulcrum that sped the hero along on his journey of becoming legendary, dead, or both. Sometimes the princesses were good-hearted and the knights fought valiantly for their honor. Sometimes they were evil and used witchy machinations to control the people around them, lacking any real power over their own lives.
But honestly Rapunzel didn't remember a whole lot about either kind. They were boring. She loved the swordsmanship of the knights and did her best to reenact it with broom handles and frying pans, dancing back and forth on her feet to evade imaginary blows.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“He didn't think they were all after a criminal. He suspected it was an innocent girl.
Well, a beautiful young woman, really; as comely as his niece Tasha, who was so clever with her loom and quick with her tongue. But this girl had extraordinary silver hair-- a color so unusual the captain had seen it only once before in his long years in the guard.
On a royal princess, a tiny baby, dead to the world.
In fairy tales and myths, when children were given up because of a prophecy or because the family was starving, they did disappear into the world for a while-- and then came back years later like a cicada, bringing the power of youth and the unavoidable anger of the gods with them.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine