Young Cora : Your Majesty. I didn't expect this honor.
King Xavier : 'tis no honor. Did you think a stolen gown and pilfered mask would keep me from recognizing you? There's straw on your dress. You carry the mill with you, miller's daughter.
Young Cora : You've got some nerve disparaging me. You're selling off your own flesh and blood.
King Xavier : You're an insolent girl. The kingdom has been strained by righteous wars; and we need our gold, yes. We're still miles above your kind. So now, go. There's nothing you can offer us other than errant strands of straw.
Young Cora : That is nothing but delusion!
King Xavier : What could you possibly have to offer us?
Young Cora : I can turn... straw into gold, and solve all your woes.
King Xavier : [laughs] Really?
Young Cora : But, as you've insulted me, you shall not reap the benefits. Good luck whoring your son.
Young Cora : I don't love your son.
King Xavier : I didn't expect you to. Not much there to love, frankly. But this is not about love. It's about alliances. Love is weakness. It isn't for hard women like you. That should make your choice easier.
Young Cora : My choice?
King Xavier : Run off with the evil imp you don't think anyone knows about, in the name of love; or stand next to my son, with a crown on your head, and citizens at your feet.
Young Cora : If the choice is love or power, then even having a heart is a liability. Don't you think?