Ruby: You’re impossibly impatient, and mean. Your skin is pale white and ice cold. Your eyes are judging, and sometimes you speak like—like you’re from a sheltered upbringing. You never eat or drink anything. You don’t hang out with anyone else. … How old are you?
Weiss: Seventeen.
Ruby: How long have you been seventeen?
Weiss: A while.
Ruby: I know what you are.
Weiss: Say it. Out loud. Say it!
Ruby: A princess.
Blake: It’s heiress actually.
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