My bright bubble of hope that my sister has been spreading herself around the other Charmings and hasn’t fallen for Prince Poopfloof bursts. I imitate her favoritewhat the bunkum poopmove and pinch the bridge of my nose. Look at that—it helps.
“Have you...” I trail off as my mind supplies nasty images of a naked Charming with my sister.
“No, but we’ve kissed.” I press the back of my hand against her forehead. “What are you doing?”
“Checking for fever.”
“For Idol’s sake,” she grumbles.
I wave three fingers in front of her face. “How many fingers do you see?”
“Four.”
I knew it. She’s clearly delirious. I glance at my hand. Nope, wait, I’m holding up four. My pinky got in on the action without permission. I take a step back and frown. “When did you kiss?”
She throws her hand in the air and huffs. “Last night. You and your knights were giving off some wicked energy, and it kind of filtered out.”
Wow, my sexcapades made Charming seem desirable. Go me. “It’s likely an effect of being around us. Ignore it. I’m sure it will pass.” Or I can maim Charming and let him pass.
“Don’t be so judgy,” she snaps.
I drop my hands and sigh. She’s right. I absolutely need to not judge this situation, I need to deal with it. There’s a lot that can befall an idiot prince.
She shakes her head. “Stop plotting his death.”
I shrug. “If I don’t plot it, but it happens anyway, I can’t be held responsible.”
“You can absolutely be held responsible.”
“We shall have to agree to disagree.”
She puts her face in her hands and sighs. My sister is struggling with her feelings, and I’m being an ass. I wrap her in my arms and give her a squeeze. “Nobody will ever be good enough for you in my eyes,” I tell her. “But if you have feelings for him, and you want to explore them, you have my blessing. However if he hurts you, I have four knights who will cut him up in teeny tiny pieces before Theo, in his dragon form, devours them.”
Her shoulders shake with laughter. Sister crisis averted. She pulls back and glances around. “Umm, what is that?” she asks as she points out a dense purple fog sweeping along the ground. Tendrils wrap around my legs, and I take a heavy sniff. It’s heady, like I’ve drunk too much berry wine, and the fizz pop in my head is destroying my sane thoughts.
Malachi crashes through the bushes with a hand over his eyes, making me marvel at his coordination. I have my brilliance, and he has balance. I still beat him.
“I hope you are decent, ladies, because we need you back now. There’s something weird happening.”
“We are clothed. You can look,” I tell him as I grab Gwyneth’s hand and drag her back with me. My mind is still processing the fact she has feelings for Charming. She didn’t state what kind, though—they could be ones of disgust or annoyance. Maybe Charming kisses with all the finesse of a toad with a slobbery tongue, and she’s struggling to tell him he’s gross. Ugh. Who am I kidding? She wouldn’t have dragged me out to the bush toilet for that.
We join the others, finding Nash glaring at the purple fog creeping toward him and the rest of our group.
“What is it?” I wonder.
He flicks his gaze at me, then back at the mysterious fog. “I’m not sure. Best not to touch it or breathe it in.”
Gwyneth and I giggle. “Too late.”
“Are they drunk?” Theo mutters.
“Off pee?” Hart asks. “I hope not.”
“Ew, no one drinks pee,” I tell him. “Why are you so gross?”
“Says the female who urinated in the sea,” the genie reminds me.
“Everyone urinates in the sea, and if you declare otherwise, you are lying to yourself.”
