“Could I be your girl, too?" I asked quickly.The large, broad-shouldered man looked away before he answered. "Well, now," he said, as though he had given it deep thought, "I sure do think I would like that.""But," I said, concerned that he hadn't noticed, "I don't look like your other girls.""You mean because you white?"I nodded. "Abinia," he said, pointing toward the chickens, "you look at those birds. Some of them be brown, some of them be white and black. Do you think when they little chicks, those mamas and papas care about that?”

“When I asked him for some explanation as to why he wanted to kill me, he said it was because he didn't like his jobs. When I asked him since when had he not liked his jobs, he said since always. When I remarked that he had never told me this, and that I had gotten the impression that he had liked them, he said: "How is that possible? You know me. Do I strike you as stupid or boring?""No.""Then how could you think I would enjoy being an etiquette expert, or a Weight Watchers' counselor, or a stripper? How could you think that someone like me, with my mind, my character, would derive any satisfaction from those things?”

“He blocked me. " What'd you do, Chloe?"I sidestepped. He sidesteped."You like him, don't you?" he said. "Yes, I like him. Just not...""Not what?""Talk to Simon. He's the one who thinks...""Thinks what?"Step. Block."Thinks what?""That there's someone else," I blurted before I could stop myself. I took a deep, shuddering breath. "He thinks there's someone else.""Who?"I was going to say I don't know. Some guy from school, I guess. But Derek's expression already knew the answer. The look on his face...It'd been humiliating before, having Simon accuse me of liking Derek, but that was nothing compared to how I felt when I saw Derek's look. Not just surprise, but shock. Shock and horror."Me?" he said. "Simon said he thinks you and I are-" "No, not that. He knows we aren't-""Good. So what does he think?""That I like you." Again, the words flew out before I could stop them.”

“You need to be Queen. Everyone who knows anything knows htat, but most people don't know anything, and that is a problem." He scratched at the back of his head and shifted his weight. "I would never take that away from you. No matter what happens, I'd never take the crown from you, and I'd defend you against anybody who tried."I didn't say anything to that. I'd never heard Tove talk so much before, and I didn't know what he was getting at. "I know that you're in love with...well, not me," he said carefully. "And I'm not in love with you either. But I do respect you and I like you.""I respect and like you too," I said, and he gave me a small smile."But it's a number of things, and it's none of them." He let out a deep breath. "That didn't make sense. I mean,it's because you need somebody to help you keep the throne, and somebody on your side, and I can do that. But...it's just because I think...I want to.""What?" I asked, and he actually looked at me, letting his mossy eyes stare into mine."Will you...I mean,do you want to get married?" Tove asked. "To me?""I,um..." I didn't know what to say."If you don't want to,nothing has to change between us," Tove said hurriedly. "I asked because it sounds like a good idea to me.""Yeah," I said,and I didn't know what I would say until it was comign out of my mouth. "I mean,yes,I do.I will. I would...I'll marry you.""Yeah?" Tove smiled."Yes." I swallowed hard and tried to smile back."Good." He exhaled and looked back down the hall. "This is good,right?""Yeah,I think so," I said, and I meant it."Yeah." He nodded. "I sorta feel like throwing up now,though.""I think that's normal.""Good." He nodded again and looked at me. "Well,I'll let you go...do whatever you need to do.And I'll go do what I do.""okay," I nodded."All right." He randomly patted me on the shoulder, then nodded again, and walked away.”

“Dance class, huh?" he said. "You don't look the type.""And what does that mean?" I asked."You're not built like a dancer," he commented."You should probably stop talking now," I advised."Got a little bit more meat on your bones than those girls you see on TV.""You should definitely stop talking now." I glared.”

“I don't think he likes girls", I said. "Or boys. Look at the horror on his face. He doesn't look like a people person.”