Page 262 of Naughty Nelle

“Jane, it’s almost time for my cake. Where’s Papa?”

Good question. Where is The Prince? I can’t believe he’s missing his daughter’s birthday party.

The sound of singing fills my ears. “Happy Birthday to You.” It’s Winnie with the cake—a glittery castle made of hundreds of chocolate cupcakes with colorful candles stacked to look like spires. How creative of Winnie! She must have had it custom made at Sparkles. Unfortunately, it makes me think again about my castle and that Midas monster. I can’t wait to get my hands on him.

All the children gather around the cake and sing along with Winnie. Hook joins them and finally so do I. Hook’s beautiful baritone voice harmonizes with the choir of children. Calla, holding Lady Jane, beams with joy.

“Calla, make a wish and blow out the candles,” says Winnie.

“I’m only seven. So how come there are eight candles?” asks Calla.

“One’s for good luck,” says Winnie.

With any luck, The Prince will show up before this party’s over.

On Winnie’s count of three, Calla takes a deep breath, winks at me, then blows out all eight candles. Everyone shouts “Happy Birthday.”

“What did you wish for?” I ask her.

“I wished that Papa would—”

Winnie cups a hand over Calla’s rosebud lips and then reprimands me.

“Shame on you, Jane. Don’t you know that if you say what you’ve wished for, it won’t come true?”

Right! I should have known that from my “birthday party” at Faraway. Silly me!

A bellowing voice in the distance diverts my attention.

“What is going on here?”

The Prince. Finally! With Marcella hanging on his arm, he lopes over to us.

“Where have you been?” I ask, not hiding my anger.

“We went shopping!” croons Marcella. “Want to see what I—”

Gallant cuts her off. “Who are all these children, and what are they doing here?”

“They’re children from the local orphanage. They’re here to celebrate Calla’s birthday,” I reply.

“Eww, orphans!” says Marcella as if they’re rabid rodents.

“Get them out of here. Now!” orders The Prince. “I cannot have my daughter exposed to all these germs. Who knows where these gamins have been!”

“But Papa, they’re my new friends!” protests Calla.

“My Little Princess, this is none of your concern.” Gently pushing her aside, he accidentally knocks Lady Jane out of her hand. The doll tumbles onto the cobblestones.

Calla crouches down to pick up her precious doll. “Papa! Look what you’ve done!” she cries. The doll’s beautiful porcelain face is cracked all over.

In a fit of tears, Calla runs off, Lady Jane dangling from her hand. Her sobs are like pins in my heart.

The Prince stands there motionless.

“My love, it’s only a stupid doll,” says Marcella. “She’ll get over it.”

She moseys over to the cake and dips a finger into the frosting. As she licks it off, I want to strangle her.

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