I had to ask, "Is it a true story, Aunt Charlotte?" Aunt Charlotte looked at me without saying anything for a while. Then she said, "I've told you my… - Megan Whalen Turner

If it is an affliction, it is as you said: The gods know me so well they can predict my behavior. They don't control it. They could know I would love her, but they don't make me. I've watched her for years, you know. All those times when you didn't know where I went, mostly it was to Attolia.

They looked like business cards. Instead of a printed name, a filigreed gold line wrapped itself in a design in the middle of each white rectangle.:"What are they?" Selene asked.
"Wishes," said the elf prince. "You've got three. Just make a wish and burn a card. It doesn't"-- he looked her over with contempt --"require a college education."
"Thanks, but no, thanks," said Selene, handing the cards back. She'd read about people who were offered three wishes my malevolent spirits. No matter what they wished, something terrible happened. She looked carefully at the man. Behind the nice suit and tie, he was just as she thought a malevolent spirit might appear.
"What do you mean, 'Thanks, but no, thanks'? They are perfectly good wishes, I assure you. They're not cheap 'wish for Popsicles' wishes, young woman. They are very high quality. Here." He pushed them towards her. "Wish for anything. Go ahead."
"I wish for peace on earth," Selene said, and sneaked a look over her shoulder. Her bus was coming up the street, but still two blocks away.
"That's not a thing!" snarled the elf prince. "That's an idea, that's a concept. I didn't say wish for a concept. I said a thing. A material object. Go on."
Selene stood her ground. "I'd rather not."

"The court is watching," she pointed out.
"I thought you wanted me more exposed to the public eye?" he teased.
"I reverse myself," she said coldly, "and argue for a little circumspection." She tugged at his hand, but he didn't release her. She gave up, unwilling to be seen trying to pull away.
"You don't think I can do it."
She didn't think he could.
"I don't care what they think."
She knew that. It worried her.
"No," said the queen, but she wavered.
He sensed it and smiled. "Am I king?" he asked, irrepressibly.
It was the one argument she was in no position to deny. She wanted him to be king, and he was resisting it with all his will.