Thank ye."
“For what?"
“For bein’ who ye are."
Gabby chuckled and shook her head, saying, “And who else could I be?

Do not feed that beggar. Hamlet, lie down.” The dog ignored her.
“Down,” Viktor ordered, his deep voice stern. The dog whined and then lay down. The prince looked at her. “You need to be more forceful.”
“I suppose my forcefulness will improve once my voice changes. Sopranos get no respect.

Would you care to walk to the river?” -Miles
“I would love to walk anywhere with you." -Amber

The money is mine, not yours,” Reginald reminded her. “You ungrateful wretch. I found you an earl to marry, and your son will be an earl.”
“You chose yourself a son-in-law,” Regina said. “You traded me for a title.”
“You will thank me—”
“—for dying and leaving me in peace.”
“You will regret those words some day.”
“I can manage the regret, if not my own finances.

Viktor looked at the older man’s nightshirt, robe, and nightcap. His lips quirked into a smile. “The hour is late, and the household sleeps. How is it that you are still awake?”
“I knew you would be knocking on the door sooner or later.” Pickles looked down his long nose at him. “You have passed the previous six nights with Her Ladyship.”
“You are observant, my good man.”
“No, Your Highness, I am the one who locks the door at night.” Pickles reached into his robe’s pocket and produced a key. He passed it to the prince, saying, “After tonight, let yourself into the
house.”
Viktor grinned at the majordomo and lifted the key out of his hand. “Your trust honors me.”
“You are unlikely to abscond with the silver,” Pickles drawled.

Let’s escape outside,” Isabelle suggested. “Do you have any other talents?”
“I bake and garden.”
“Do you sew, too?”
Amber nodded. “I sew whenever anger incites me to mutilation.”
Isabelle laughed. “One cannot hang for attacking a piece of cloth.