Eugene Fitzherbert Quotes

“Now the three were in a tiny magical clearing in the forest: lime-green moss and tiny, sweet-scented flowers not seen elsewhere in the dark woods grew in profusion. In the middle of it a crystal-clear spring burbled whose waters were supposed to have healing properties. No one said it aloud, but it was very clear this was exactly the sort of place the king-- or queen-- of the forest would live: a golden-antlered stag, a snow-white hart, or...”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“She took his moment of stillness to study him intently. From an... artist's perspective. All she could see was his body at an angle: the top of his head (he had brown hair), and his arms when they were out (they seemed young and muscular and lithe). She wished she could see his face. The way he moved made her think that he was probably handsome.
(She couldn't have said why, nor did she bother to differentiate think from hope.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE: FLYNN RIDER, THIEF
ADDITIONAL REWARD FOR RETURN TO THE
KING AND QUEEN OF THEIR RIGHTFUL PROPERTY

And a perfect sketch of the man she had seen the other day.
All right, not exactly perfect. She was pretty sure they had gotten the nose all wrong. One of that size she would have seen, even from her window.
So... the crown had probably been stolen by that man and stashed quickly into the tree because they were after him! Whoever "they" were. The king and queen's soldiers, other thieves, anyone hoping for a reward...
Flynn Rider.
Now that was a name.
The perfect name for the sort of man who steals something and gets away with it, who hides out in the deep woods until the coast is clear, a man of adventure, a man of cunning...
... She bet he was very good at sneaking...”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“It was hard to believe that Flynn was the same species or gender as the Stabbingtons: he was smaller, lithe, muscled but slim. Few to no scars-- or at least, only really fetching ones that accentuated his features. His face was built for all kinds of smiles; even cocky ones like the grin he sported right now.
His nose was not at all like in the posters.
Rapunzel felt a warmth wash over her and had to stop herself from staring.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“His eyes were light, light brown like the dark honey that came at the end of the summer when the sumac and serious bushes bloomed. His eyebrows were heavy and expressive but didn't overwhelm his face. His mouth kept pulling to one side in that smile... there was something a little fake about it, but also something a little endearing. Like he was trying very hard to be suave and mysterious. And didn't realize how obvious it was.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“You haven't even asked what I'll pay you," Rapunzel said innocently.
"You don't have enough," Flynn promised. Then he turned to Gina and said in a theatrical whisper, "This is where she offers her necklace, or a bracelet, or some other rich girl trinket I couldn't pawn even if I wanted...."
"How about a crown?" Rapunzel suggested.
Flynn grew very, very still.
"Uh-oh," Gina said with a wicked grin.
"What, um-- what crown?" Flynn asked casually.
"The one that you stole. The one that the Stabbingtons want back. The one that you hid, rather obviously, in a tree hollow," Rapunzel said smugly, crossing her arms. "Diamonds, pearls, about my size... You know, that crown?"
"That's my crown! Give it back! I stole it fair and square!" Flynn, cried, leaping up.
"You mean you stole it from the castle, or you stole it from the Stabbingtons?" Gina asked interestedly.
"Doesn't matter," Flynn said, crossing his arms and setting his jaw childishly. "It's mine now."
"Well, no, it's mine," Rapunzel said. "At least until you take me to see the lanterns, and home again. Then it's yours."
"You must have seen me hide it! In the tree!"
"Déduction très brillante," Rapunzel said archly.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“He caught her staring at him and gave her a sly look.
"Super impressed with being with a real live criminal, huh?" he asked, smiling with surprisingly nice white teeth.
"I'm super impressed with anyone who can fight and knows these woods and the world so well. I guess Gina does, too."
"Yes, Gina." He frowned. "She's kind of a weirdo. Nice weirdo, mind you. But very, very odd."
A flurry of thoughts winged their way through Rapunzel's head like a confused flock of birds on a late summer test flight. She couldn't separate the different feathered things out.
She was also puzzled by the look on Flynn's face: he raised his eyebrows and sort of gazed at her, turning his head so it was a little sideways. He smiled so that his lips stretched wide at the corners but remained partially closed over his teeth.
Obviously it was some sort of expression Gothel didn't make but that other people commonly used.
So she tried to copy him.
"What are you doing?" Flynn asked.
"I 'on't ow," Rapunzel responded, keeping her lips in the same half position. "'at are oo oing?"
"Okay, you're kind of a weirdo, too. No wonder you two get along so well," Flynn said, shaking his head and dropping the look. "Usually the smolder works on all the ladies."
"Oh, you were trying to..." Rapunzel began to giggle. Books #27 and #28 were tales of knights and damsels and adventures--- with more than a touch of romance.
Flynn looked offended.
"No, please try again!" Rapuunzel begged.
"Oh, the mood's gone. Forget it," he said, rolling his eyes. But he smiled-- a real smile this time, a natural one.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“Somehow you grew up, maintained a crazy amount of self-discipline... and managed to stay sane. I don't know how you're so constantly upbeat and cheery considering the hand life dealt you. You must be a truly amazing person.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“They wanted me to not have any hope of returning, so they royally ordered her to tell me all that."
"Then why give you anything with the royal sigil on it?" Flynn asked quietly. "If they didn't want you to know who you were? Like your pretty red bracelet there. Tirulian red coral, handwrought chain, pure gold clasp-- yes, yes, I totally sized it up. And the royal sun on the back."
Rapunzel looked at her bracelet in wonder. The little sun, constant companion of her childhood, in mobiles, embroidered on her clothing, on the little gifts Gothel sometimes gave her, the crown... That was the symbol of the royal house? Her whole life had been hints of the truth, everywhere!”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“Gothel had told her that cutting her hair would kill her. The Goodwife said that was nonsense; it would only affect her powers, if anything at all. And come to think of it, Rapunzel did lose the occasional hair when it caught on something, or when she was combing it out. The dead hairs turned a dull brown, and it used to panic her when she was little. Did it take a day off her life? A month? A year?
She thoughtfully wrapped a lock of hair around her fingers. Biting her lip, she brought the shears up....
"Rapunzel? What are you doing? No!"
Flynn had quietly come in (and had paused at the door, preparing to say something theatrical) but immediately dropped all playing. He ran over and grabbed her hands, holding them away from her.
"What... oh," Rapunzel said, confused and taking a moment to figure out what he was doing. "You thought I was going to hurt myself. You didn't hear what the Goodwife said? Cutting my hair won't kill me."
"Oh. No, I did not hear that," Flynn said, collapsing against the edge of the workbench. But he didn't let go of her right hand. "Maybe when the group learns something important like that, you could let me in on it? You know, keep me in the loop?"
"Sorry," she said, a little chagrined. "I guess this looked really bad, didn't it?"
"You have no idea, Rapunzel, I... I think I died a little when I saw that."
He opened his mouth, trying to say something else.
Was he going to go into full funny Flynn Rider mode? Or was he actually going to say something serious?
Rapunzel could hardly breathe, waiting to see.
And then he kissed her.
It wasn't like the night before, when there was a pause and a feeling of expectation. He took her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. With desperation, maybe as if she really had almost died.
Rapunzel shivered-- and for the slightest moment panicked that it was her magic activating. But it wasn't...
When he stopped, she reached up and touched his lips gently. She didn't want the moment to end.
"I don't want to lose you," he whispered. "But if I have to... I'd rather it be to your happy ending than to..."
"Brigands and mercenaries, or a hair-related death, I know. You do care, Flynn Rider!”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“You know if they catch you-- which they will-- the countess will torture you until you wish that you had died under the headsman's ax back home."
"Yes, Treggsy, thank you. I am aware of that."
"This is an entirely new side of Flynn Rider we haven't seen before," the older man said thoughtfully.
"Good luck," Gina said. "There's more of a chance of us getting caught if we both go. I'll stay back and rescue you and Rapunzel if it comes to that."
"Couldn't have said it better myself," Flynn said. "Except for that part about me needing rescue. That was garbage."
Konrad rode back to the castle with the dagger and the message, and Flynn Rider marched toward Castle Bathory to sneak in and save the princess.
... And was caught, only ten minutes after he slipped inside.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“Rapunzel, I'm not anything heroic or wonderful or whatever you thought," he said sadly. "I'm a sneak thief mostly out for my own good. The rest of it's a lie. My name isn't even Flynn Rider."
"Um, what?"
Of all the many things she thought he might say, this was not one of them.
"My real name is Eugene Fitzherbert. At least, that was what was on record at the orphanage."
There might have been a glint from inside a guard's helmet at that, as if he couldn't help sniggering a little.
Rapunzel's jaw actually fell open.
"Eugene?" she asked.
"Yes."
"And doesn't Fitz mean--"
"Yes, it does," he interrupted in annoyance. "But who knows if that's really my family name, or a real name, or whatever. I think of myself as Flynn Rider. Daring hero, escape artist, adventurer extraordinaire... Eugene is someone who wastes away in an orphanage, who nobody wants. Eugene eats porridge once or twice a day, maybe, and wears the old clothes that bigger kids grew out of a generation ago."
"I like Eugene," Rapunzel protested, patting his hand. "I like it better than Flynn. It sounds more... real. Like who you really are."
"Thanks," he muttered.
"No, really! Eugene doesn't abandon his friends. Eugene makes snarky remarks... and then hangs around witchy goat farms to see how he can help. Eugene pauses his wild, adventurous life to make sure the people around him get their happy endings. Eugene gives crowns back to their rightful owners."
"Eugene winds up drained of his blood in a castle ruled by a demonic she-beast," Flynn said, looking up to gauge his captors' possibly violent response. They didn't move. "Flynn Rider is somewhere off riding into the sunset--"
"Without his princess," Rapunzel interrupted, hands on hips.
Flynn smiled sadly at her.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine

“The king raised an eyebrow at Flynn, who saluted him as best he could.
"Isn't that Flynn Rider, the very wanted thief?" he demanded in a rich, rolling voice. "The one who stole the goblet? And the crown?"
"No, dear," the queen said, wiping her eyes. "Our daughter just told you: that's Eugene. Who saved her. No relation at all to that other man."
She gave Flynn a sharp look and the corner of her lips twitched into a hastily smothered smile.
Flynn blinked in surprise.”
― Liz Braswell, What Once Was Mine