The prince’s strength was often touted as being physical. But Vhalla was beginning to learn that the man known for breaking hearts seemed to have a rather large one of his own.

Something very small can cast a large shadow when its close to the sun.

Either way, consider me your sword, Vhalla Yarl.”“Then consider me your wind.

I can't go back, and neither can you. We both have to move forward and find what beauty we can in the world as it is.

She longed for the days where her biggest decision was what book to read first.

I want a place you hardly dare to even whisper. I want the bravery to not only read, but to do. I want a man, not a library boy. A man who is tall and witty and knows more about the world than you would ever dare dream.

But if we wait on this wedding, you can make my dress crimson. I will not wear gold if my Imperial nobility is bought with the blood of innocent civilians who died while I had a party.

Nothing made sense, and she would have him until it did.

Tattoos should be choices, not brands.

I didn't come for him," Vhalla whispered softly. The gardens were surrounded by a tall palace wall that blocked most of the mountain winds. The prince heard her with little problem, his retreat stalled. "I came to see you.""Me?" He looked back in disbelief."Yes, you," Vhalla laughed softly.