Page 124 of The Nightmare Before Kissmas
He looks up at me, his teasing paused, a held breath. “And when would we watch them?”
Our time is quickly becoming limited. If all goes well, the Christmas Eve deadline won’t matter—I’ll have the start of a collective to back me up, we can unify against any repercussions Dad threatens, and all the arranged marriage alliance bullshit can be dissolved.
But if I lose what flimsy control I have over this situation… what will happen?
“We have more than a week,” I say and give a hopeful smile. “And then—”
Hex’s eyes dip over my shoulder. “Your father is looking at us.”
He steps around me and I feel like something slipped out of my hands in the last five seconds, a lifeline slithering away from me.
But I know how delicate all this is. I know what could happen if this blows up in our faces.
And thenis too far off to think about yet.
Staff wheel in the cake, Iris manages to make popcorn—it’s a little burned, but good—and, blissfully, the only seat left in the theater is near the back, a reclining love seat barely big enough for two people. But Iris, Kris, Hex, and I drop into it, throw it all the way in recline, and pelt each other with popcorn and gorge on Renee’s chocolate cherry layer cake and settle in to watch a movie that has nothing whatsoever to do with a Prince of Christmas.
It only takes about twenty minutes into the movie before the mood of the room shifts. A few stray laughs at first. Then giddy murmurs, an overall welling offun.Even the reporters relax into their chairs and end up enjoying the movie, the atmosphere.
The sequel kicks on after the first, and I expect people to take that transition as a cue to leave.
But they stay.
They stay and watch the second one.
Then the third.
And by the time that movie is over, members of my court are laughing, smiling, in ways I haven’t seen… ever.
Everyone starts to leave as the credits on the last movie roll. I disentangle myself from Iris—and Hex, who somehow ended up right next to me, oh how did that happen; but luckily we get to our feet before any reporters can swing cameras on the dogpile all of us made—as Dad excuses himself from a conversation across the room.
A reporter fromMorning Yuletide Sunintercepts him before he can get to me. “King Claus! Are we to expect more events of this nature? I have to say, this was unorthodox!”
Dad’s eyes flare to me.
Oh, shit.
But the reporter doubles back. “In a good way! This was a refreshing change.”
Dad holds his scrutiny on me. “We shall see how this progresses,” he says to the reporter. He nods my way. “Good night, Nicholas.”
Dad and the reporter head out of the room.
No snide reprimands. No lingering pause to yell at me for sitting next to Hex. No threat to never pull a stunt like that again.
Well, fuck me running.
Headline:Prince Nicholas may not be a complete disappointment to his father, apocalypse possibly imminent.
Kris punches my shoulder. “Look at you. Making good choices.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Maybe. How about that.”
“All right, I’m going to bed.” Iris shakes a popcorn kernel out of her hair. “Did I get them all?”
There’s like a half dozen stuck across her head.
“Yeah. You’re good.”
