Page 10 of The Prince and His Stolen Throne
“Alright,” Dad said as I stepped out of the bathroom with damp hair and fresh clothes, “I’ve packed everything you need to fight a dragon.”
I laughed.
He didn’t.
“Youarekidding about the dragons, right?”
“Look at the time!” he exclaimed without even feigning to check a clock. “We’d better head to the carriage, or your father will worry.” Then he walked briskly away.
The attendants grabbing my trunk blocked my path, so I couldn’t keep up with him. By the time I reached the carriage, both of my fathers were already inside, sitting on the same bench, so I sat across from them. “Father, are dragons real?”
Dad hid a snicker behind his hand.
Father arched an eyebrow at him, then said dryly, “Ask Kit to tell you about the dragon. They’re a much better storyteller than either of us.”
“If you’re lucky, they’ll even reenact it with a spoon,” Dad added, waving his hand in a flourish.
I thumped back against the seat, suddenly worried about my own chances of surviving this quest.
Chapter Four
We arrived at the royal castle of Woe a few days later after a routine, uneventful journey. I stumbled out of the carriage, sore from sitting for so long, and stretched my arms high above my head to loosen my tight muscles. I’d only held the pose for a second when a heavy force collided with my side and shoved me to the ground.
“Roar!” The word was distinct even as my attacker poorly imitated a lion’s roar, throwing her head of brown curls back and clawing at my chest with her fingers.
Thankfully she’d cut her nails. Last time she’d left scratch marks.
Sighing, I thunked my head against the cobblestones. “Hello, Delilah.”
Dad’s face appeared above me, lips twitching as he struggled to look stern. “You’ve been attacked by a ferocious beast, Trey. You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Thanks for your support,” I drawled, pushing against Delilah’s shoulder until she rolled away so I could stand.
She tumbled over and landed on all fours, then clawed the air while she hissed. A pair of brown cat ears rose from her hair while a fluffy tail swished behind her.
Dad shuddered. “Terrifying.”
Her eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Absolutely.”
“Oh, thank you, Uncle Rick! I’ve been practicing.” She bounced to her feet, then bounded forward and hugged him around the middle. Shecaught sight of Father descending from the carriage and exclaimed “Uncle Brendon!” before running to hug him too.
Apparently, I was the only one she needed to hunt. I dusted off my ass and crossed my arms as I glowered at her. “You aren’t wearing that to the meeting.”
She protectively clasped her hands over her throat, covering a small, pink leather collar. “I’m not taking it off. You can’t make me.”
“Sweetie, he does have a point,” Dad said. “There’s a time and place for these things.”
“Cats do as we please,” she replied primly, sticking her nose in the air.
No one dared point out that she wasn’t a real cat. Last time I tried, she bit me hard enough to leave a scar on my forearm.
“Andprincessesneed to follow decorum, even ones who are cats,” Dad said, scratching her between the ears.
Delilah sighed and carefully unhooked the collar. The moment it left her neck, the furry ears shrank to normal, round human ears and the tail disappeared. “Very well. But I’m taking it with me. My future spouse should know who I truly am before the wedding.”
“Nowthatwe agree on,” I muttered.
