Page 25

PLAYING PRINCESS

L ater, as we were leaving the ball, Aspen caught up to us on the drawbridge. The large silver moon lit her up like a searchlight in the darkness. Her whole gown glittered like diamonds, but it was her face which was truly beaming.

“Leda!” she said, sucking in air.

We stopped and waited for her to catch her breath.

“The Committee just announced the candidates for the Princess Games. I’m one of them!”

I winked at her. “Yes, I had a feeling you would be.”

Her smile faded a little. “Leaving so soon?”

“We have to head home. Sierra’s beat.” I indicated our daughter, sleeping contently in Nero’s arms. “I think it’s the post-sugar crash. She must have eaten at least twenty cupcakes tonight.” I set my hand on my stomach. “And so did I.”

“I did warn you about overindulging in all that icing,” Nero said.

“Yes, well, I figured if I could drink poison, I could handle a little icing.” My stomach gurgled. “In any case, Aspen, what happened after they dragged Lavinia away?”

“Things got pretty heated in the ballroom,” she told me.

“The royal psychologist declared Lavinia mentally unfit to rule, which means she’s been disqualified from competing in the Princess Games.

That threw the Committee into complete disarray.

They were just about to announce her as one of the candidates. ”

“Then I’d say her outburst in the ballroom happened just in time,” I commented.

“Oh, yes,” Aspen said, grinning. “The Committee quietly pulled me aside and asked me to take her place since I already had all my paperwork in order.”

“How fortunate.”

Aspen took my hands, shaking them, bubbling over with excitement. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did, Leda. But I have to know…how did you do that? How did you make Lavinia see monsters that weren’t there?”

“Who says they weren’t there?” I countered with a sly smirk, waving Dreamcatcher out of the shadows. Cupid was by her side.

“You did this?” Aspen asked them. “How?”

“Dreamcatcher has very unusual magic,” Cupid told her.

Aspen’s brows peaked. “More unusual than controlling people’s feelings by shooting them with magic arrows?”

“I can manipulate interdimensional energy,” Dreamcatcher said. “I used my powers to reveal the interdimensional creatures in the ballroom, but only to Lavinia. That’s why she was the only guest who saw them.”

Aspen looked at me. “And this was your idea?”

“One of my better ones,” I said, feeling pretty good about myself. “Since no one else could see the creatures, people naturally assumed Lavinia was imagining things. Dreamcatcher just made sure she ‘imagined’ them quite vividly and publicly.”

“Yes, my friends put on quite the performance,” Dreamcatcher chuckled. “I’ll need to remember to bring them a thank-you snack basket.”

“What do interdimensional creatures eat?” Aspen asked her.

“Most of the same things we eat,” said Dreamcatcher. “Fruits, vegetables, healthy grains…”

I frowned. “That doesn’t sound like the kinds of things I eat.”

A chuckle rumbled in Nero’s chest, soft and subtle. He was being very careful not to wake Sierra.

“Duke the Duck is particularly fond of bananas,” Dreamcatcher continued.

“Duke the Duck?” Aspen blinked once. And then again.

“A very large, very glittery purple duck,” I told her.

“I see. Lavinia mentioned such a creature. I would love to meet him.”

Dreamcatcher laughed. “I’m sure that can be arranged. Though be warned, Duke is a real ladykiller. He’ll probably try to woo you.”

Aspen looked like she didn’t know what to make of the idea of a duck wooing her.

“In any case, it was your magic that saved the day.” I bowed my head to Dreamcatcher and Cupid.

“Oh, yes,” Aspen said, giving them a polished curtsy. “Hopefully, if I become Queen, I will be able to thank you properly.”

Aspen returned to the ball, and Cupid and Dreamcatcher returned to their exciting lives.

Nero and I brought Sierra and Angel home.

We’d planned to have a quiet romantic evening, but our daughter had other ideas.

The journey had jolted her awake, and now she was dancing back and forth across the living room, pretending to be a princess at the ball.

“So I guess we won’t be taking that bubble bath together after all,” I said to Nero.

“Apparently not.” He caught the pillow Sierra had used as a dancing partner—until she lost her grip mid-twirl, and it zipped across the room.

Chuckling, I took the pillow from Nero and tossed it onto the sofa. “Well, our lives have never been predictable.” I darted in, swooping up Sierra as she spun. “Hey, I have an idea, little princess. How would you like a magic crown?”

She giggled. “Yes!” She backflipped out of my arms, twisting herself midair to land facing me. “A crown! A crown!”

So I spun her a crown out of magic. And, just for kicks, I made myself one too.

“Look.” I brought her over to the mirror. “Now we match. What do you think?” I asked Nero as he walked up behind us.

“Nice crowns,” he said.

“I was inspired by Princess Aspen’s story. How about you?” I leaned back against him, and he folded his arms around me. “Do you ever wish you could be king?”

“No,” he said, leaning down to kiss my shoulder. “I am content to be an angel.”

“Oh, I get what you’re saying, Sir Sexy Tux.”

Nero’s brows arched at the new nickname.

“But I think it might be nice to wear a crown. A real crown, I mean,” I said. “I’d look wicked in a crown, don’t you think?”

He chuckled, dark and delicious. “You always look wicked.”

Turning around to face him, I said, “Flirt with me some more, Windstriker.” I took a step forward. “I like it.”

Sierra jumped between us. “Make Angel a princess too!” she demanded.

So I summoned a magic crown and other accessories, and Sierra had a lot of fun decorating Angel with them.

“The cat looks miserable,” Nero commented, direct and to-the-point as usual.

“Oh, I don’t know. She isn’t trying to knock the crown off,” I pointed out.

“She’s indulging you.” Nero watched Sierra adjust Angel’s fluffy tutu. “Both of you.”

“Actually, I think she’s indulging herself. And why not?” I looked at Angel. “You deserve a little pampering now and again, don’t you, Princess?”

“Princess Angel!” Sierra agreed, clapping her hands. Then she reached for a pair of slippers.

That did it. Angel must have finally had enough dress-up. She struggled out of Sierra’s hold, kicked off the unwanted costume, shot past me and Nero, and escaped through the open door. Sierra ran out after her.

“Like I said, the cat looked miserable.”

“All right, you were right,” I conceded.

“Obviously.”

Chuckling, I closed the distance between us, draping my arms over his shoulders. “So what now?”

“Now, Pandora,” he said, his words falling against my lips like forbidden secrets, “we call the babysitter. I have a date with my wife, and I intend to keep it.”