Real life is one thing. |
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Fiction is another. |
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My sister Jane and I
were raised on a steady diet |
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of fish sticks and fairy tales. |
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Mom, wanting us to believe
in love and chivalry, |
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read us every happily-ever-after story |
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she could get her hands on. |
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I bought right into it... |
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A romantic to the core. |
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We lived in the pages of books, |
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staging epic battles, |
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going on magical adventures. |
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Well, I was always the
perfect princess, of course. |
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And then you slay the
dragon, charm the prince, |
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and then you rescue me. |
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And made Jane play
the handsome prince |
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more times than she cares to remember. |
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How come you always get
to be the princess? |
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Because I'm the older sister.
I'll be waiting in my castle. |
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Maybe that's why
she became more pragmatic. |
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But what if the prince
doesn't show up, Emma? |
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