Tú estabas tan segura de que yo era otra persona, y a mi me gustó que me vieras diferente de los demás. Parte de mi seguía pensando que tal vez siempre tuviste razón y que todos estaban equivocados acerca de mi. Que incluso yo había estado equivocado acerca de mí.

«Tal vez soy un poco héroe después de todo. Pero... de verdad, Cress: solo un poco.»

Podía ser una esperanza frágil, pero en ese momento era su mayor esperanza.

She shrank into her chair, sure that if he could see her now, he would know. The truth would be evident in every angle of her face.
She loved him more than ever.
And not because she'd scoured file after file of reports and summaries and data and photographs. Not because he was the dreamy, untouchable Carswell Thorne that she'd imagined kissing on the banks of a starlit river while fireworks exploded overhead and violins played in the background.
Now he was Carswell Thorne who had given her strength in the desert. Who had come for her when she was kidnapped. Who had kissed her when hope was lost and death was imminent.

If you honestly believe that," said Thorne, stowing the gun again, "then you really don't recognize true value when you see it.

All right, Miss Cryptic. What's the new plan, then?"
Glancing around the room, Cinder tipped up her chin. "It starts with kidnapping the groom."
Iko's hand shot into the air.
"Yes, Iko?"
"That is the best idea ever. Count me in.