Page 84 of Disenchanted

“Why, my beloved Dashy.” Amy made a vague gesture to the empty space beside her. Her lips puckered into a frown as she looked right and then left. She tottered around in a complete circle. “Oh! I’ve lost him.”

She tipped back her head and bellowed. “Dashy! Where are you, sweetie?”

“Hush!” I said, casting a mortified glance back at Horatio, but my sister continued to shout.

“Dashy! Dashy?”

“Coming, darling,” a voice echoed back.

One of the royal twins stumbled out of the same doorway from which Amy had appeared. He grinned. “Amy, you little minx. Look what you forgot down in Papa’s wine cellar.”

To my complete outrage, the young prince dangled one of my sister’s garters. “We’d both be in for it if my father knew we’d been sampling his private…”

The prince’s words trailed off, his grin disappearing as he caught sight of me and Horatio. He whipped the garter behind his back, trying to finger comb the disorderly waves of his blond hair. As disconcerted as he was, years of royal training came to the young rascal’s rescue. He managed a very creditable bow.

“Good evening, my lady. Commander.”

Amy giggled. “Thash no lady. Thash my older sishter.”

“Oh, frap!” the prince muttered, but did his best to offer me a charming smile.

I had no idea what Horatio might be thinking, but he was more equal to the situation than I was.

“Your Royal Highness.” He returned the prince’s bow with a stiff one of his own.

What exactly was the protocol when one catches a prince trifling with one’s little sister? I suppose I should have curtsied instead of stalking toward the prince. Some of my more murderous thoughts must have shown on my face because he stumbled back from me.

“This is not at all what it looks like, my lady. I— I mean, Miss Upton.”

“Oh, is it not? Prince Dahl!” I snapped, staring pointedly at his bitten fingernails.

The prince curled his fingers into a fist to hide the ragged cuticles. “No, you are quite mistaken. I am Prince Dashiel.”

“Then you must have been rechristened since you entered the ballroom.”

“Don’t be shilly, Ella.” Amy hiccupped. “That is my Prinsh Dashy. Think I don’t know my own beloved?”

“I think you would be fortunate to know your own name. All thanks to this young villain.”

“Ella…” Horatio laid his hand on my arm in calming fashion, but I shook him off.

“Madam, I-I assure you,” the young prince stammered, “your sister and I have done nothing wrong. Upon my honor.”

“Your honor, Prince Dahl?” I snapped. “Do you or any of your brothers have any? If you have done nothing wrong, exactly what are you hiding behind your back?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” The prince’s lofty tone was ruined when his voice cracked.

I seized his arm, trying to drag his hand from behind his back, but Horatio intervened.

“Ella, that’s enough!” Horatio pulled me away from the prince. “Your Highness?” The commander held out his palm in demanding fashion.

Red-faced, the prince produced my sister’s garter and dropped it in the palm of Horatio’s hand.

“Her garter broke,” the prince mumbled. “And her stocking fell. I was just trying to help.”

“Oh, I’ll just bet you were,” I began, but Horatio cut me off.

“I think it would be best if Your Highness returned to the ballroom and your other guests,” he said.