Page 17 of The Prince and His Stolen Throne

The next day, Father and two guards visited the accident site to see if the carriage was salvageable. They returned with news that the main structure was broken, and it needed to be scrapped for parts. We couldn’t buy a new carriage in the small town we’d stayed in, so he went ahead to the next town to purchase one and brought it back.

Because of the delay, instead of arriving the day before the meeting like we’d originally planned, our carriage rolled into Misfortune’s capital with barely an hour to spare.

“I can’t meet my future spouse looking like this!” Delilah cried, holding a mirror with one hand and her brown curls with the other. She dug around in her trunk—which she’d refused to let out of her sight since the ‘bandit’ incident—and thrust a brush at me. “Trey, brush my hair while I do my makeup.”

“Brush your own hair,” I said, shoving her hand away. “And since when docatswear makeup?”

“As Uncle Rick hasrepeatedlyreminded me,” she began, sticking her nose in the air, “I am also a princess, and princesses wear makeup.”

“Do you even know how to apply it?”

She warily eyed the collection of various cosmetics. “It can’t be that hard.” Then she uncapped the lipstick and drew the world’s wobbliest line.

Dad chuckled at her attempt. “Perhaps riding in a carriage isn’t the best time to experiment. Let me see.” He wiped off her mess with a handkerchief, then held her face firmly in one hand as he gently traced her lips with a dusky pink.

Father watched the exchange with an odd sparkle in his eye.

I turned away before my brain started asking questions Idid notwant the answers to. In the end, I took the brush from Delilah and worked through her hair. The tight curls expanded into a fluffy mane around her head. “Is this the look you want?” I asked tentatively.

Once Dad stopped dabbing pigment on her eyes, she looked in the mirror. “Yes! This is perfect!”

As long as she was happy.

By the time Dad and I finished, she’d transformed into an electrocuted wild cat princess. Even if she were wearing her ears, they’d be lost in her hair.

She looked in the mirror again and made a noise deep in her throat to imitate purring.

“You should cut back on the cat sound effects,” I warned.

“I will not,” she replied primly, sticking the mirror back in her trunk. She eyed me and said, “Youmight want to do some grooming of your own.”

I looked down at myself, plucking at the front of my blue jacket. “What’s wrong with how I look?”

“You have surpassedrumpledand are dangerously close tobedraggled.”

“Those mean the same thing.”

“No, bedraggled is definitely worse.”

I frowned and examined my clothes further, noting the various creases. Alright, so I was travelworn, but what did anyone expect after a week in a carriage? I’d only brought so many changes of clothes. “You’re aware that if we go on a quest, there won’t be daily baths and ironing boards, right? Wrinkles are the least of my concerns.” I subtly smoothed them out while never breaking eye contact.

“At least dosomethingabout your hair,” she said, tossing the brush at me. It smacked my chest with surprising heft. “Otherwise, I’ll be too embarrassed to be seen with you.”

She thinks she’s a cat, butIembarrassher?With a few quick swipes, I dragged the brush through my hair, then chucked it back at her.

“That hurt!” She picked the brush up and tried to smack my head with it, but I grabbed both her wrists, holding her away from me. Spitting and hissing, she struggled against me, then kicked me in the shin.

“You little monster!”

Father leaned toward Dad and asked in a loud stage-whisper, “Should we intervene?”

“Only if you want to get scratched.”

The carriage slowed, warning us that we were close to our destination.

Delilah and I froze, then looked at each other in horror. I reached for her hair at the same time she reached for my lapels, straightening each other up in sync. By the time the door opened, we were at least somewhat presentable.

As we exited the carriage, two attendants hurried toward us as fast as they could without running. The first bowed to my fathers and said, “Queen Davina apologizes for being unavailable to greet you. She has bid me to show you to your guest quarters while my companion escorts the young prince and princess to the meeting.”