Page 271 of Naughty Nelle

“We are vegetarians,” says The King, helping himself to a generous portion of everything. “Although sometimes I could die for a good leg of lamb.”

I make a mental note: Be sure to bring an entire lamb the next time you see the property thief. That is, if there’s a next time.

The Queen, draining her second goblet of wine, loosens up. “Dear, what have you done to your hair?” she asks Gallant, noticing for the first time that he’s wearing it loose, instead of in its usual ponytail. “I rather like it.”

Actually, I do too, my mood lifting just a little from the wine.

Gallant speaks for the first time since we’ve sat down. “Thank you, Mother. It is quite liberating.”

“Well, I think it makes you look like a girl!” grumbles The King.

Let me at him.

The Queen turns her attention to the skank. “Marcella, do you like croquet?”

“Mais oui. It’s one of my favorite dishes,” she mutters, stuffing her face.

Calla’s about to burst out in laughter but claps a hand to her mouth just in time. Despite myself, I want to laugh too.

“And how are the arrangements for the ball coming along?” continues The Queen after another gulp of wine.

Her Royal Skankiness barely looks up from her plate as she wolfs down her meal like a starved stray. I guess she forgot her “diet” potion.

“Oh, Jane’s handling all the details. She can tell you better than I,” she says, helping herself to another whopping serving of everything.

The Queen looks my way.

“Great,” I say. Great? The ball is only a week away, and there’s so much to do…flower arrangements, finalizing the menu, selecting the music…and let’s not forget squeezing Marcella into her ball gown. And squeezing the life out of Midas.

“Excellent!” says The King. “I’m expecting this to be our biggest-ever Faraway fundraiser.

Faraway?What does this ball have to do with Faraway? I thought it was to celebrate Gallant’s engagement to Marcella.

Then it hits me. Of course, Gallant’s going to announce their engagement to his parents tonight. I gulp. That’s what’s been on his mind.

“Father, Mother, I have an important announcement to make.”

And here it comes.

Marcella’s eyes light up like lanterns. She lurches so far forward her that her cannonballs graze the gravy on her plate. It’s her big moment. By tomorrow, her official engagement to The Prince will be headline news in the Fairytale Tattler. Everyone will know.

My heart sinks as the Prince rises.

“Father, I don’t want to rule the world; I want to paint it.”

My heart bounces back up. A tremor of excitement ripples through me.

“Son, what are you talking about?” shouts the shocked King.

Only Marcella is more horrified. Her jaw hangs wide open, her mouth spilling over with mashed up bits of turnip pie.

“I want to abdicate my right to the throne.” Gallant’s voice rings with confidence. “I want to be an artist, not a king.”

I smile; Marcella gags.

“I told you, dear, he took after my side of the family.” The Queen beams, eyeing her portrait and obviously pleased with her son’s decision. “He wants to use his God-given gift to make the world more beautiful. How marvelous!”

The King rants on. “Son, you have spent your entire life preparing to take my place!”

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