Mina

“I am the Nenavarene Lachis’ka, not a princess.” She stared straight ahead, at Alaric’s back. He had tensed somewhat. “You will address me as ‘Your Grace,’ and after my coronation as the Night Empress, you will call me ‘Your Majesty.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“Some tiny part of him had left his body and was wrapped in sunlight, sheltered somewhere spun from memory, a place where Talasyn carded her fingers through his hair as he lay atop her, the gentlest touch he’d ever known.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“What happened?” she demanded, vehemence leaching into her tone. These weren’t battle wounds. “Who did this to you?”
Alaric turned his head to the side, avoiding her gaze, his lips clamped shut.
“Tell me.” Talasyn put her hand against his cheek, urging his eyes back to hers. “Or I’ll go to your guards and ask them instead.”
"Don't."
“It was my father,” he said hoarsely. Every word sounded ripped from his throat. “In punishment for my shortcomings—” He shuddered with a fresh spasm of pain, eyelids twitching as he closed them, long lashes fluttering against the tops of wan cheeks. “A lesson.”
Talasyn had known, of course, that Gaheris was cruel, but it had never before occurred to her that this cruelty would extend to his son. This is how he keeps him chained. It had been ingrained in him to not fight back.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“Did you… Did you just kiss me?” He sounded puzzled, and maybe a little out of breath. His lips were full and plump and… God. Kissed. There was simply no way Olive could get away with denying what she had just done.
Still, it was worth a try.
“Nope.”
Surprisingly, it seemed to work.
“Ah. Okay, then.” Carlsen nodded and turned around, looking vaguely disoriented. He took a couple of steps down the hallway, reached the water fountain - maybe where he’d headed in the first place.
Olive was starting to believe that she might actually be off the hook when he halted and turned back with a skeptical expression.
“Are you sure?”
― Ali Hazelwood, The Love Hypothesis