Hello again, violinist,' he said in a hoarse voice. 'Fancy meeting you here.
Regina DomanThere are billions of men in the world, probably millions near my age. Maybe hundreds who are compatible with me. Maybe at least a dozen who would want to date me. There's got to be at least five on the continent whom I could probably marry. So why am I so hung up on this one guy?
Regina DomanSome of them are okay, but the popular girls like to pick on my sister, and almost all the guys are gross. I don't know why guys are like that. Do you?
Regina DomanThe sense of danger made her lift up her head higher. There were battles coming. But life was meant to be a battle, wasn't it? There was nothing to fear.
Regina DomanEvil isn't beautiful on its own. You know?'
'Well, good people are sometimes ugly-' Blanche said at last.
'I don't know about that. Not really,' Bear shook his head. 'If the good's there, and you look for it, you'll see it in some way.'
'I think Bear is right,' Rose said decidedly. 'Fairy tales teach you that. No one who's really good ever stays ugly. It's always a disguise.
Blanche reached out and clung to her sister's hand. Rose felt her thin mittened fingers clutching her own. She knew her sister was beginning to be frightened. But Rose was too caught up in the mystery to be afraid. She strained to hear the enchanted song Bear was listening to. Her heart was pounding, but to the rhythm of a marching drum, not fear. There was a sense of purpose here, and although she did not understand it, she rejoiced to be a part of it.
Regina DomanHave you ever felt that there was something going on in life that not everyone was aware of?' Rose asked, turning her mug around in her hands.
Bear relaxed a bit more deeply into the couch, and put on a mock-solemn look. 'Explain thyself.'
'As though there's a story going on that everyone is a part of, but not everybody knows about? Maybe 'story' isn't the right word- a sort of drama, a battle between what's peripheral and whats really important. As though the people you meet aren't just their plain, prosaic selves but are actually princes and princesses, gods and goddesses, fairies, shepherds, all sorts of fantastic creatures who've chosen to hide their real shapes for some reason or another. Have you ever thought that?
Can you imagine a princess who works as a counter girl in a fast-food restaurant? I'm sure there's one somewhere. Imagine if all the people who came in to place orders were to realize that their meal was served by a princess! I don't think most people could handle it.'
'I think it would be hard for a real princess to have to do menial work like that,' Blanche reflected. 'She might think it was beneath her.'
'Oh, but a real princess would know that hard work ennobles the soul,' Rose objected. 'That would be one of the signs.
Standing in the back of the dark opera house and gazing at the huge stage before them, gay with gold-scrolled scenery and sumptuously costumed singers, the air vivid with bright music, was one of the most enthralling experiences of Blanche's life. For a time, she forgot her doubts about reality in the sheer delight of illusion. But, as Rose reminded her during the intermission, perhaps it wasn't illusion. Perhaps it was a glimpse of what reality was really like.
Regina DomanI think that if a real princess was lost in this modern world and she could be whatever she wanted, she would be a musician,' Blanche said slowly. 'A violinist, or a harpist. That would be the only place where she could find solace for her lost kingdom.
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