"Well, with everything you mentioned, you are keeping yourself rather ridiculously busy, aren't you? The gallery, the shelter, school, your own artwork - granted, I'm sure that your own artwork is good therapy for you. Lots of still life wrapped in leather and anger?" They passed the kitchen, and the scent of lemon tarts filled Brooke's nose. She smiled in contentment before adding, "I know. I work hard too. To become Queen. We each have our own goals. I'm sorry that you think mine will lead me down a path of darkness and loneliness, but I assure you that it won't. Maybe I just possess some survival skill that you lack. Let's call it class."
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