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467 pages, Hardcover
First published July 1, 2012
"To you," sneered my father. "And what will you do with her? She can't go two hours without these infernal visions giving her seizures."
"We could work on that, to start. We saar have techniques for taming a rebellious brain." Orma tapped his own forehead, and then tapped it again as if the sensation intrigued him.
Why had it never struck me how deeply peculiar he was?
He answered even my most impudent questions. Yes, dragons could smell colors under the right circumstances. Yes, it was a terrible idea to transform into a saarantras right after eating an aurochs.
Lars glowered defensively, as if he anticipated a scolding or a profession of love. Yes, that was it: he thought I meant to proposition him. He wore a closed expression, as if rehearsing a speech in his head, a way to let me down gently after I stripped off all my clothes. Sorry, Seraphina, I dondt like grausleiner thet can put their voices in my headt
“I’m attracting small children,” Orma muttered, twisting his hat in his hands. “Shoo it away, will you?”
“Who will kiss you? Who will rock you to sleep?" His voice was slow, drowsy.
"You never did," I said, trying to tease him. "You were more father to me than my father, but you never did that."
"Someone should. Someone should love you. I will bite him if he will not."
"Two Knights came to the castle today!" She could barely contain herself; her hands fluttered about like two excitable small birds . . . "They claim to have spotted a rogue dragon, flying around the countryside in its natural shape! Isn't that awful?"
Awful enough to have her grinning ear to ear. She was a strange little princess.