You are Eadlyn Schreave. You are the next person in line to run this country, and you will be the
first girl to do it on your own. No one,” I said, “is as powerful as you.

I'm not sure anyone knows what they're looking for until they find it.

I didn’t realize you thought I was so flawed.” I stood, turning away.
“Eadlyn, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“It is. That’s fine.” I made my way to the door. The accusation filled me with so much rage I could
barely stand it.
“Eadlyn, darling, we want you to be the best queen you can be, that’s all,” she pleaded.
“I will,” I answered, one foot in the hallway. “And I certainly don’t need a boy to show me how to
do that.

I only have one heart, and I'm saving it.

It was a delicious feeling, falling in love.

IT’S A FUNNY THING TO be the product of a fairy-tale romance. It’s another thing to think you might find one yourself. You can read the stories and watch the movies, and you can think you know how it’s all supposed to unfold.

But the truth is, love is as much fate as it is planning, as much a beauty as it is a disaster.

Finding a prince might mean kissing a lot of frogs. Or kicking a lot of frogs out of your house. Falling might mean running headfirst into something you always wanted. Or dipping your toe into something you’ve been scared of your whole life. Happily ever after could be waiting in a field a mile wide. Or a window as narrow as seven minutes'.