182
" The embroidery came later, in the retelling, as the story was told again and again by the men, taking on its own character as it passed over camp.
The Prince had ridden out, with only one soldier. Deep in the mountains, he had chased down the rats responsible for these killings. Had ripped them out of their hiding holes and fought them, thirty to one, at least. Had brought them back thrashed, lashed and subdued. That was their Prince for you, a twisty, vicious fiend who you should never, ever cross, unless you wanted your gullet handed to you on a platter. Why, he once rode a horse to death just to beat Torveld of Patras to the mark.
In the men's eyes the feat was reflected as the wild, impossible thing it was--their Prince vanishing for two days, then appearing out of the night with a sackful of prisoners thrown over his shoulder, tossing them at the feet of his troop and saying: You wanted them? Here they are. "
― C.S. Pacat , Captive Prince: Volume Two (Captive Prince, #2)
195
" Even before Laurent had hit the ground,
the man had drawn his sword.
Damen was too far away. He was too far
to get between the man and Laurent, he
knew that, even as he
drew his sword--even as he wheeled his
horse, felt the powerful bunch of the
animal beneath him. There was only one
thing he could do. As the spray of water
sheared up from under his horse, he
hefted his
sword, changed his grip, and threw.
It was, emphatically, not a throwing
weapon. It was six pounds of Rabatian
steel, forged for a two-handed grip. And
he was on a moving horse, and many feet
away, and the man was moving too,
towards
Laurent.
The sword drove through the air and
took the man in the chest, ramming into
the ground and pinning him there. "
― C.S. Pacat , Captive Prince: Volume Two (Captive Prince, #2)
200
" I mean that we hold the centre. We hold everything from Acquitart to Sicyon. Can we not call it a kingdom and rule it together? Am I such a poorer prospect than a Patran princess, or a daughter of the Empire?’ He made himself say no more than that, though the words crowded in his chest. He waited. It surprised him that it hurt to wait, and that the longer he waited, the more he felt he couldn’t bear to hear the answer, brought to him on a knife point. When he made himself look at Laurent, Laurent’s eyes on him were very dark, his voice quiet. ‘How can you trust me, after what your own brother did to you?’ ‘Because he was false,’ said Damen, ‘and you are true. I have never known a truer man.’ He said, into the stillness, ‘I think if I gave you my heart, you would treat it tenderly.’ Laurent turned his head, denying Damen his face. Damen could see his breathing. After a moment he said in a low voice, ‘When you make love to me like that, I can’t think.’ ‘Don’t think,’ said Damen. Damen "
― C.S. Pacat , Kings Rising (Captive Prince, #3)