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Julia might have known that I was wearing a naughty maid’s apron, but there was no way she could say anything about it without revealing she knew exactly what it was.

For a moment, we both stood there frozen, both knowing what was going on but neither able to admit it. It was Andi who broke the silence.

“I like your apron, Miss Glory.”

“Thank you,” I said in a strained voice. “Happy birthday! Why don’t you come in and let me know what you think of your cake.”

Luckily, Andi was thrilled with her cake, and with the decorations, and with the pink lemonade, which she promptly had two cups of. And once her friends started to show up, she was thrilled with them, and with the gorgeously wrapped presents they brought with them.

The plan was to start the party in the cat area and do cake toward the end.

Once everyone had arrived, I ushered the kids through the doors that led into the cat area.

I’d expected a lot of squealing and excitement, and there was some, but mostly the kids were relatively calm and very gentle with the cats.

So far, so good. Aside from the side-eye Julia kept giving my apron.

Twenty minutes into the party—on the dot—Quill threw open the door to the stairwell up to my apartment and strode into the room, her small nose in the air. “Greetings, my royal subjects,” she said.

“Princess Palollipop!” several girls cried.

Julia caught my eye over Andi’s head and gave me a quick nod, like maybe she hadn’t quite forgotten about the whole sex- apron thing but I was winning her over by producing a decent Palollipop.

“Welcome, Princess Palollipop,” I said, walking over to Quill. “We’re so glad you could join us for Andi’s birthday party.”

The girls clustered around Quill, who flicked the long blond braid of her wig over her shoulder. “You,” she said, zeroing in on one little girl who was busy swiping her finger noisily under her nose. “The drippy one. Please keep your distance. If you leak on me, I shall have you executed.”

The girls giggled, while I leaned closer. “You can’t threaten to execute anyone,” I whispered. “That’s not really on-brand for Palollipop.”

“What? No executions?” Quill stared at the kids collected around her. “What is even the point of being a princess, then?”

I gritted my teeth behind a big smile for the kids. “You promised,” I hissed.

“I don’t recalling saying, ‘I promise to be a simpering idiot to fool the naivest of your kind,’” she said.

“Just try, okay? Smile or something.” I watched her lips spread wide in what I assumed was supposed to be a smile but looked more like an expression you would see on the clown from It. “Okay. Not that like.”

Her face relaxed into her usual haughty expression. “I am here to entertain you, children. Feel free to ask me about my life in my amazing castle.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

The answer, as anyone who’d spent any time Googling Princess Palollipop knew, was cotton candy-flavored lollipops. But of course Quill had neither done any research nor cared to get the answer right. “Insect larva,” she announced.

Luckily, the kids took it as a joke, bursting into the kind of laughter only kids are capable of.

“Do you know how to make balloon animals?” one little girl asked.

“I do, but only from the bladder of a hippopotamus.” Quill peered coolly down at the child. “Do you happen to have a hippopotamus bladder on you, by chance?”

More giggles. Boy, Quill was really killing it with the kids.

As long as she didn’t, you know, start actually killing , we’d be okay.

“Do you have servants?” Andi asked.

Quill looked directly at me. “Oh, yes,” she said. “Very many.”

There was no reason for a chill to run down my spine.

But it did.

***

Princess Palollipop was a hit, and by the time she said her goodbyes and escaped back to my apartment, we were halfway through the party and everyone seemed to be having a good time.

It looked like Quill wasn’t the only one killing it. Roger was right. I could overcome hiccups. I had this in the bag.

And then I walked into the first cat room, the one closest to the café area. The one with the rat cage in it.

I froze, my mind desperately trying to process what I was seeing.

Because one of the doors of the rat cage was standing wide open. And, if I wasn’t mistaken, the cage was empty. No rats at all. Which meant I had fifteen rats loose.

In a cat café.

During a little girl’s princess birthday party.

There really wasn’t a glitter bomb big enough to tell Roger how I felt about him at that moment.