Can you be sure?" "I haven't spent the last fifteen hundred years learning how to knit my own socks, boy!" The crone looked like she might box Heinrich's ears, if she could reach them.

She [Pansy] pushed in next to Poppy so that she could see him around the guard's elbow. She was as tall as Poppy, with shining dark-brown hair and blue eyes. An utterly lovely girl, as all the princesses were, yet Oliver thought Petunia was far more beautiful.

It was a palace, made entirely of gold, sitting on an island of silver snow at the very top of the world. East of the sun, and west of the moon.

Can you be sure?" "I haven't spent the last fifteen hundred years learning how to knit my own socks, boy!" The crone looked like she might box Heinrich's ears, if she could reach them.

And then what did you do, Lord Oliver?" Karl's eight-year-old daughter gazed up at him in awe, as though this were the best story she had ever heard.

How wonderful," he purred. "I've been longing to speak to you for days, Princess Cecelia." "And I've been wanting to kick you in the shin for days.

Sire," Oliver said as he helped Petunia to her feet, "I'd like to marry Petunia. "Of course you would," retorted the King Gregor. "But not right now! we just got those two taken care of." He pointed to the twins who were still trying to play Christian's odd game. "And weddings are expensive!