Xesca Crespi

“He told me that you are a common-born. That a would-be Heir of the khagan needs to wed a princess, or a lady, or someone with lands and alliances to offer.” Her throat closed up. She tried to shut out the sound, the words. Didn’t want to hear the rest. But Sartaq took her hand. “I told him if that was what it took to be chosen as Heir, I didn’t want it. And I walked out.”
Nesryn sucked in a breath. “Are you insane?”
Sartaq smiled faintly. “I certainly hope not, for the sake of this empire. Because my father appointed me Heir before I could walk out of the room.”
Nesryn left her body. Could only manage to breathe. And when she tried to bow, Sartaq gripped her shoulders tightly. Stopped her before her head could even lower.
“Never from you,” he said quietly.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Tower of Dawn

“Hello, princeling,” she breathed. A smile bloomed on his mouth. “Hello, witchling.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Kingdom of Ash

“PackPackPack”
― T.J. Klune, Brothersong

“And when Aelin looked behind her, to the archway into her own world, she indeed could… feel them. As if the Wyrdmarks he’d secretly inked onto her were a rope. A tether home.
A lifeline into eternity.
One last deceit.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Kingdom of Ash