Will this be my life forevermore? Careful tea parties and the quiet fear that I don’t belong, that I’m a fraud? I held magic in my hands! I tasted freedom in a land where summer doesn’t end. I outsmarted the Rakshana with a boy whose kiss I still remember somehow. Was it all for naught? I’d rather not have known any of it than have it snatched away after a taste.
The Sweet Far Thing, by Libba Bray