Poor Princess. :<
The young Chance woman stood silently as he studied her, the short fur at the back of her neck prickling as he studied her bit by bit. He was making her feel uncomfortable, looking at her so intently, but she was determined to wait until he told her she was pretty, because she was. Then, she would be free to go home and read her new book, although she had little interest in reading now. The day had begun as a fun adventure to find new books, but now she was worried about how she looked and what others thought of her. It was rare for her to feel self-concious, but she certainly was now.
"No," she said slowly, shaking her head. No, Harlowe was wrong, so very wrong. "No, they tell me because it's true. It is." Princess felt silly, standing there and arguing with a mere child, but she did not want to leave now. Princess did not want to leave until he finally agreed with her, or until she was so upset that she needed to leave of her own accord.
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