Fuchsia's been dealing with everything, the way she always does: completely ignoring reality. She's managed to find herself a collection of terrible romances, and will part with them like her father did his own library, with depression and possible madness.
While she's managed to avoid anything about shades of grey (though she did make her way
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She might just be coming into the common room, when she spies her Twilight-loving friend. "Lady Fuschia, greetings," she says, curtseying. "It has been a long time since last we spoke. Have you found some new literary treasure?" she asks, eying the book.
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"Have you read this?" She holds up Pamela for inspection.
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"He's just abducted her!"
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"Imagine how dramatic that would be!"
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She leans in a little more, "he will not release her until she agrees to be his mistress."
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"One night, the housekeeper slips out of bed and the lord takes his place."
Her voice goes even quieter. "And the housekeeper was sharing a bed with Pamela!"
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"I think I would do the same. Wouldn't you?"
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Hyperbole, anyone?
"To treat anyone that way and I'm a Lady." Somehow she thinks that it makes her more likely to be weak -- not that being Fuchsia doesn't make her weak enough.
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