“It’s my own name I’m afraid of forgetting.”
“Your true name is written here," she said tapping his chest. "Tattooed on your heart. You don’t let just anyone read it.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I know.”
“I want you to know my name,” he said. “The name I was given, not the title I took for myself. Will you have it, Alina?” […]
”Yes,” I breathed.
After a long moment, he said, “Aleksander.” […]
His smile deepened and he cocked his head to the side. It almost hurt to see him this way. “Will you say it?” he asked.
I hesitated, feeling danger crowd in on me.
“Aleksander,” I whispered.
His grin faded, and his gray eyes seemed to flicker.
“Again,” he said.
(Leigh Bardugo, Ruin and Rising)