Like I didn’t know who she was, when she was born, who her parents were, her designation and level of magical powers, where she lived, where she worked, and what her favorite pastry was from the bakery, Queen of Tarts, across the street. I knew all of that except the last from my own shallow dive into the Savoie sisters. The tidbit about her favorite pastry was from my silent and staring cousin seated across from me.
