I want. . . a steady hand. A kind soul. I want to fall asleep, and wake, knowing my heart is safe. I want to love, and be loved.

She was spirit and presence, as rare and brilliant as snowflakes in sunlight, and he could not bring himself to harm her.

Trust you? Rue--trust you? You counterfeited your own death rather than wed me. You told me you'd rather die than stay in Darkfrith. I can't--I don't know how to fix that. I don't know how to mend it. Tell me." He took a step toward her. "Tell me, and I'll do it.

I didn't ask you to catch me!" "You're so delightful when you're irrational. Of course I'm going to catch you." He slid a hand behind her nape and kissed her again. "It's what I do.

I want to love, and be loved.

All that effort,” he mused, “merely to avoid me. How gratifying.

I heard what you said. I’m not the silly romantic you think. I don’t want the heavens or the shooting stars. I don’t want gemstones or gold. I have those things already. I want…a steady hand. A kind soul. I want to fall asleep, and wake, knowing my heart is safe. I want to love, and be loved.