She pulls on my hand, yanking my whole arm. “Come on, princess, we’re doing this. We don’t have any other options.” With painful dignity, I mutter, “If my translation device is right, and referring to me as princess means you think I’m a self-important, temperamental person with superior tastes and a peculiar difficulty to be pleased; then you’re correct, and I take no offense.” She laughs again—and my lips twitch, shocking me. And with my panic once more at bay thanks to Aurora, I fall quiet. When she tugs me forward again, this time, I pick my way behind her.
