The Duke rushes forward, his pot belly peeking out from under his white shirt. “Of course not. Daphne is a little slow.”
I blink at the little poopfloof. Slow? “I see,” the prince says, nodding. He pats me on my head. I jerk back.
“Don’t touch her,” Gwyneth mutters. A hush falls over the room.
“You will require a lady’s maid. Is she your chosen, or will you be bringing a less slow maiden?”
Gwyneth side-eyes me and nibbles her lip. “She’s my sister. We don’t have any other family.” We do, but we don’t like them. “So she will be accompanying me.”
“Sister?” He looks me up and down with more interest, his gaze lingering on my breasts. Damn stupid dress.Oh no, Charming, that is not going to ever happen. Not for all the cheese in Deerwick.They had a lot of cheese, and I love cheese, so this was a big deal. “Well, you and your slow sister must come to The Hallows.”
“I don’t think so,” I mutter, grabbing Gwyneth’s arm. There is one thing that’s for sure. These maidens never return once they disappear into The Hallows. I had my suspicions about what happens to them, none of which end in a happily ever after.
The prince throws his head back and laughs. It’s a cold, heartless sound that raises the hair on my arms. I’m sure The Duke would feel it too if he had any hair. He does, however, raise his ink worm squashed eyebrows. The edge of the left one cracks and falls to the floor.
“I’ll give you thirty tempos to collect your belongings, then we will ride to the palace,” the prince hollers for all the room to hear. His calculating gaze lands on mine and his lips tip up in a smirk. “Don’t test my patience. I’m doing you a boon giving you extra time to gather your things. I’m sure you could pack everything you own in less than five tempos.”
I narrow my gaze. My eyes flick to the sword at his side. I doubt he is a competent fighter. It’s a showpiece. I could snatch it from his side and stab him through his chest before anyone knew what was happening. My fingers twitch.
Gwyneth grabs my hand and yanks me up before pulling me towards the doors.
“Thirty tempos,” the prince shouts. “Then I come hunting for you.”
I dart a look over my shoulder and Gwyneth pinches my arm.
“Ow,” I grumble. “What was that for?”
“To banish the murderous thoughts you have for the prince,” she utters as we spill from the doors of the town hall and start towards the hut.
“We need to run,” I tell her. There’s a deep pit in my stomach that is telling me something bad is going to happen. Then again, it could be the lack of food. It’s been a diurnal since I last ate.
She freezes and spins to face me. “There’s nowhere to hide, Daph. He would set the entire kingdom on our trail if we ran.”
“But he’s going to want to fluff your floof.”
She squeezes her eyes closed and sighs. “There are worse things. See it as a new adventure. You always wanted to see the palaces of The Hallows. Here’s your chance.”
I sidestep the gathering frogs, follow her into our hut, and flop down on her mattress as she grabs the potato sacks from the floor and begins stuffing them with our clothing. “See, you couldn’t do that with your sleep dress,” I point out. “My clothing is multi-purpose.”
She waves her hand at the tiny kitchen. “Anything you want to bring?”
“And where might the fairest in the land be visiting?” the mirror demands.
I cock my head. “Gwyneth is the missing Cinderella. We are off to the palace for a new and fruitful life of riches and wonders.”
She snorts a laugh because we both know it’s a joke. Not that she couldn’t be a princess—Gwyneth is more put together than the whole of Far, Far Away—but she is not a damsel in distress who ran out of a party early only to get caught without a ride home.
“I see, and might the faithful mirror be accompanying you on this new adventure?”
I quirk a brow at his forlorn face. “You want to come to The Hallows?”
“It is without a doubt the most glorious place,” he says, glancing at the top of the mirror like he’s imagining it. “I would be honored, oh most fair one of the land.”
Gwyneth frowns at him. “It’s not like you fit into a sack.”
“He is a people pleaser,” I point out. “I’m sure Charming has enough room on the back of his carriage for him. It would be cruel to leave him here alone. Blazes knows who will move in once we don’t return. He could be forced to declare Gretel as the most fair.”
The mirror man pulls a face.
