Bethany

“She's tough for a blueblood, he'd thought, a lifetime ago. Maybe tough enough to be with him. He hadn't considered that he might not be tough enough to be with her.”
― cinda williams chima, The Gray Wolf Throne

“I go to school here, same as you,' Han said.
Micah blinked at him stupidly, the drink slowing him down. 'You? Do you even know how to read and write? They can't have lowered the standards that much.'
'Well,' Han said, 'they let you in.”
― Cinda Williams Chima, The Exiled Queen

“So here's the truth - I love you. I love everything about you – the way you stick up for people even when it costs you. The way you keep trying to do the right thing even when you're not exactly sure what the right thing is. I love how you put words together. You're as skilled with words as any knife fighter with a blade. You can put an enemy down on his back, or you can raise people up so they find what's best in themselves. You've changed my life. You've given me the words I need to become whatever I want.
I love how you talk to lytlings. You don't talk down to them. You respect them, and anybody can tell you're actually interested in what they have to say.
I love the way you ride a horse – how you stick there like an upland thistle, whooping like a Demonai. I love the way you throw back your head and stomp your feet when you dance. I love how you go after what you want – whether it's kisses or a queendom.
I love your skin, like copper dusted over with gold. And your eyes – they're the color of a forest lake shaded by evergreens. One of the secret places that only the Demonai know about.
I love the scent of you – when you've been out in the fresh air, and that perfume you put behind your ears sometimes.
Believe it or not, I even love your road smell – of sweat and horses and leather and wool.
I want to breathe you in for the rest of my life.”
― Cinda Williams Chima, The Crimson Crown

“Han stroked her hair, shifting his body under her. “Why? What are you afraid of? Thieves or wizards?”
“Both,” she said.
“Is it because I‟m not a blueblood?” He asked this matter-of-factly, as if he really wanted to know.
“That‟s the least of it,” Raisa said, taking a shuddering breath. “This is just going to lead to heartbreak, and I refuse to have my heart broken again.” She looked up at him. “I thought I could play at love. I thought I had the right, same as — as any courtier or a — a streetlord.”
He shook his head. “Rebecca, listen, I—”
“But I‟ve found out I‟m not made that way,” she interrupted. “I can‟t play this game if my heart‟s not in it. That‟s me personally. I‟m not judging anyone else.”
“I see,” he said. He tightened his arms around her, brushing his fingers along her collarbone, setting her nerves tingling. “What‟s your heart saying now?”
She wanted to be honest with him, even though she‟d probably pay for it. “I‟m in trouble,” she whispered.”
― Cinda Williams Chima, The Exiled Queen