Page 18 of His Princess Brat
Pussy is not an appropriate answer to the question ‘what’s for dinner?’ Neither is ‘my ass.’
I had never before seen anything quite so raunchy. I was helpless to quit reading.
With each page, the ‘tips’ got more disgusting, more ludicrous, and more hilarious. Some of them were even quite offensive, using terminology that hadn’t been considered politically correct for at least half a century.
When Jax announced it was time for a quiz, I looked down to realize that I had managed to get through half the book already.
Closing it, I looked up at him and waited for his first question, a plan forming in my mind.
“What is the proper way in which to greet a guest at this or perhaps one of your future functions?”
Smiling primly, I sat back in my chair and prepared to blow his mind. “The book didn’t cover that. However, it does say: Mutual masturbation is the gift that keeps on giving. Just make sure you wash your hands afterwards.”
“I beg your pardon?” Jax’s dark cocoa skin took on an abnormally red hue, and his eyes bugged, first in surprise and then in anger. “Madam,” he said crossly. “I do not have time for such shenanigans. I was assured by your mother that teaching you how to behave like a proper princess would be a valuable use of my time.”
“So was I.” I had planned to suffer through the quiz to get to the lesson on dress and grooming, which I might actually be able to get something out of, but this was beyond ridiculous.
Standing with the book in my hands, I crossed the room to where he stood, and slapped it against his chest with as much force as I could muster. “The only one participating in any shenanigans here is you. The answer I gave was simply a quote pulled from your precious book, which by the way, isn’t anything close to what the title suggests. Here’s a pro tip for you: the next time you decide to give a quiz on a book, you might want to read it first.”
I stilled only long enough to watch comprehension dawn on his ashen features. There was a moment of shock before he started blushing, sputtering, and backpedaling, and I wanted to relish every second of it. As soon as he opened his mouth and stopped sputtering long enough to stammer, “Forgive me, Princess,” I high-tailed it out of there.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t until I was out the door, standing in the hall, and watching a stout but elegant woman that could only be the aforementioned wife of the slender king’s assistant coming down the long hallway, clutching a large train case, that I realized my own mistake. I had left Jax in my own room, and now I had nowhere to go.
I had, by my calculations, only a few minutes before she spotted me through what few courtiers were coming and going, or bumped into her husband, and one or both of them came running in search of me.
Of course, if it was both, then my room would be free, and I could run back inside, assuming I could get behind them. I needed to avoid her and hide out of sight just long enough to get my room back.
Rounding a large statue, I moved out of the line of vision of the approaching Lady Ayo, and waited for her to turn into my room. Once she entered, thankfully closing the door behind her, I made a mad diagonal dash across the massively wide hallway, and hid behind an even larger decorative sculpture. I took a minute to catch my breath and calm my pounding heart before I peeked out from behind it at my still closed bedroom door.
Rats. How long would I have to stay hidden here?
I heard the bump of a door opening and quickly ducked flat up against the wall again.
“Where did she go?” Jax asked.
“I never saw her,” a woman replied. “We have to find her.”
Closing my eyes, I prayed they wouldn’t come down this way. Five seconds later, Azid ducked around my sculpture and ran smack into me.
