" You were wrong," he murmured ruefully, resting his cheek on top of Amy’s head. "You weren’t safe with me."
"I feel like Psyche kissing Cupid in the dark," Amy said dreamily.
Richard drew Amy’s arms around his back under his cloak.
"Feel. No wings."
Amy could hear the smile in the Gentian’s voice. "Does that mean if I unmask you, you won’t fly away?"
Richard tightened his grip on Amy’s arms. "Don’t even consider it."
"You could give me three trials, like Psyche."
"With what as the prize at the end? Me, or membership in the League?"
Amy managed the difficult feat of looking at him askance with her nose only inches from his. "It would be much easier for me to answer that question if I knew who you were."
"What’s in a name? A Gentian by any other name would—"
"Be an entirely different flower," interjected Amy, swatting him on the arm. "I refuse to be fobbed off with poor imitations of Shakespeare."
"If you don’t like Romeo and Juliet, how about a sonnet?" Richard suggested. "Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art—"
"Not that easily deterred."
Amy extricated herself from Richard’s arms – and his cloak, which had tangled around her knees – and hopped off the window seat.
"Damnation," muttered Richard.
"I’ll ignore that,"offered Amy generously. "And we can go straight to the crucial question of how I’m going to help you restore the monarchy "

― Lauren Willig , The Secret History of the Pink Carnation (Pink Carnation, #1)