She couldn’t have been more than twelve years old. In her hands was a sign that said RED-HEADS RULE! with a little crown painted in the corner and tiny stars everywhere. I knew I was the only redhead in the competition, and I noticed that her hair and mine were very nearly the same shade.

Ah yes, the man or the crown. I'm afraid some can't tell the difference.

I hit your thigh!” “Oh, please. A man doesn’t need that long to recover from a knee to the thigh.

When we died, no one would know, and that fraction of a moment that was so important to who we were would be gone.

No wonder I’d never had any friends. I was shockingly bad at it.

Mom was bossy. Even in print I could hear her tone, smugly congratulating me on already earning the prince's affections and telling me firmly to keep up whatever I was doing. Yeah, Mom, I'll just keep telling the prince that he has absolutely no shot with me and offend him as often as I can. Great plan.

History isn’t something you study. It’s something you should just know.