You’re too beautiful for your own good. Once you leave, we’ll have to send some of the guards with you. You’ll never survive on your own, poor thing.

The Angeles air was quiet, and for a while I laid still, listening to the sound of Maxon breathing.

Need someone to talk to? I could tug my ear right now.

Is this a good time to pat your shoulder?

I’ve met nearly every woman in this room, and I can’t think of one who would make a better friend. I’d be glad to have you stay."
My relief was inexpressible.
"Do you think," Maxon asked, "That I could still call you ‘my dear’?"
"Not a chance." I whispered.

- Just that. Your family must be very different from mine.
- I’d say so. - I laughed. - For one, no one wears their tiaras to breakfast.
- Maxon smiled. - More of a dinner thing at the Singer house?”
- “Of course.