PREVIEW

... garden as my great father—the terrifying yet oddly comfortable human furnace—walked with me still cradled in his arms. Ahh... fresh air, finally. My earlier dramatic meltdown had drained all my baby energy, but now I felt refreshed.

Just as I was basking in the glory of the afternoon sun, Nanny appeared, holding a bottle of warm water.

"Your Majesty," she said, bowing slightly. "The princess must be thirsty after all that crying."

I was not! (Okay, maybe a little.)

< ...

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