Oh, that wouldn't be so bad. Well, unless we fed them all these onions--then we'd have an invasion of princes with bad breath, and that'd make it much harder to get rid of them.

[Rosella was trying hard not to rub her eyes, but they were stinging so badly that it was getting more and more difficult to resist. The fumes were making her eyes well with tears, which was making chopping difficult; the next time she blinked, they began to fall.]

Ugh, goodness. I'm going to need a handkerchief in a minute; my eyes are stinging something awful.