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Miranda! Miranda! Miranda!

She slammed the book shut, tears welling up in her eyes. Fucking Shakespeare. It’s beauty overwhelmed her so completely. She would read the romantic ways men swoon. “Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you. Did my heart fly at your service.” Nobody was going to talk to her online that way. Nobody was going to throw their coat down on a puddle in the rain. Chivalry was dead. Why does Miranda have shipwrecked men offering up their hearts? What did Miranda ever do to deserve them? Moany, spoiled daughter of a rich sorcerer; how hard is that? She imagined her on The Real Housewives of Mystical Shakespearian Islands. All that romance is wasted on bitches like Miranda. Shakespearian women! Whiny bitches waiting for their Ferdinand to come ashore and fall in love instantaneously. Bullshit! Why do men fall for women like that? Deciding to just get it over with, she returned to the final chapters.