Isabelle thought her heart might burst. One by one, queens, pirates, empresses, and generals from all the corners of the world told their stories, bowed their heads, and left the stage. They were not pretty, these women. Pretty did not begin to describe them. They were shrewd. Powerful. Wily. Proud. Dangerous. They were strong. They were brave. They were beautiful. Finally, after what felt to Isabelle like only minutes, but was actually hours, only Elizabeth was left on the stage. “Strange, isn’t it, how stories that are never told are the ones we most need to hear,” she said, then she bowed,
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