“I stared at Greta’s back. At her matted hair, decorated with brown torn leaves and dirt. What was happening to my sister? What if I’d never come? How long would she have stayed hidden in those cool, damp leaves? How long before she woke up alone and scared, with nothing but the howling of wolves to keep her company?”

“Torn between fear and something that resembled love, she wrestled with questions she never dreamed she would face: How could she leave? Then again, how could she stay?”

“I’ll never leave you. I’ll never mistreat you. I think you know that by now. Try with me. Let us find what wemay find.”“What do you expect to find, Robert?”“How should I know? I’ve never experienced anything like this before in my life.”Tears shone briefly under her graceful long lashes before she blinked them away and glanced at himagain with a reluctant twist of a smile. Sitting up, she wrapped her arms around her bent knees andsighed. “You are asking us both to set ourselves up for great hurt when it comes time for me to leave.”“Leave? Don’t speak of leaving, angel. You must stay forever.”“As your mistress.”“As my love,” he countered insistently.”

“When my mama was twenty-five she already had an old woman's hands, and I feared them. I did not know then what it was that scared me so. I've come to understand since that it was the thought of her growing old, of her dying and leaving me alone. I feared those brown spots, those wrinkles and cracks that lined her wrists, ankles, and the soft shadowed sides of her eyes.”

“Sister," he murmured, not as an inquiry, but a statement of fact. "Brother mine," she groaned... before her consciousness slipped from her grasp and she drifted away. But she would come back to him. One way or the other, she would not leave her twin ever again.”

“{Calpurnia)"My mother…she’s desperate for a daughter she can dress like a porcelain doll. Sadly, I shall never be such a child. How I long for my sister to come out and distract the countess from my person."He joined her on the bench, asking, "How old is your sister?""Eight," she said, mournfully."Ah. Not ideal.""An understatement." She looked up at the star-filled sky. "No, I shall be long on the shelf by the time she makes her debut.""What makes you so certain you’re shelf-bound?"She cast him a sidelong glance. "While I appreciate your chivalry, my lord, your feigned ignorance insults us both." When he failed to reply, she stared down at her hands, and replied, "My choices are rather limited.""How so?""I seem able to have my pick of the impoverished, the aged, and the deadly dull.”