Page 287 of Naughty Nelle

I’m even more mystified when The Emperor pulls out a shiny sewing needle from a pocket. “Say hello to my magic wand.”

He must be kidding.

He waves the needle over me. Just as I expected, nothing happens.

“I don’t get it.” He frowns. “I can work magic with a sewing needle at my emporium.”

“Maybe you have to say an incantation. Or it’s not big enough,” I murmur, skeptical of his powers.

“Good thinking, dahling.” He squeezes his eyes closed. “Ippity-bippity-boppity-boo. Make this needle as big as can be.”

“I thought incantations had to rhyme.”

The Emperor opens his eyes. “Cut me some slack, dahling. This is the first time I’ve come out as a fairy godmother. I haven’t gotten the rhyming part down.”

It doesn’t matter. The two-inch needle morphs into a two-foot glow stick! I gasp.

“Dahling, let’s try this again.” The Emperor waves the sparkling wand over me.

Nothing happens. I shrug my shoulders. Suddenly, a shower of fairy dust pours over me.

It is a magic wand! Before my eyes, my plain black dress transforms into a ball gown. An incredible ball gown!

“Whoever said ‘it’s not the size of the wand but the power of the magician that counts’ should have his head examined,” says The Emperor.

I gaze down at the gown. Two little spaghetti straps hold up a form-fitting bodice that gives way to cascading layers of silky black satin and tulle. Sparkles coat the top layer of tulle as if it’s been dipped in fairy dust. It’s the most magnificent dress I’ve ever seen.

“I call it my LBD—my Luscious Black Dress,” the Emperor gushes. “I designed it especially for you.”

“Can I really wear black to the ball?”

“Trust me, dahling,” says the Emperor. “Black is the new pink. When all those frou-frou princesses see you in it, it’ll be all the rage. I can’t bear to think of how busy I’ll be tomorrow!”

Tears of joy trickle down my cheeks. I expect the Emperor to brush them away, but instead he waves his magic wand over me one more time. I gasp again. My tears have turned into a magnificent pair of diamond teardrop earrings. They’re floating before my eyes.

“FAAAbulous!” Armando clips them onto my earlobes. “They go perfectly with your bling.”

I almost forgot about Shrink’s locket. Still around my neck, it grazes my beautiful gown.

The Emperor glances down at my feet. “Sugarplum fairies! I almost forgot…these are from Elzmerelda. She says you’ve got to have them!” He reaches into the shopping bag.

Oh my God! It’s the killer stilettos with the pointy toes and little bows. The wickedly beautiful, shiny black shoes I coveted. The Emperor places them by my feet. Holding onto his shoulder, I step into them. Instantly, I’m six inches taller.

“How do I look?” I ask.

“Let’s face it, dahling. Everyone looks better with six more inches. Everywhere.”

I would kill to see myself in a full-length mirror.

“Dahling, you don’t need a mirror-shmirror on the wall to tell you that you’ll be the chicest at the ball!”

How did he read my mind? And know what I used to imagine my “magic” mirror to say? Well, not exactly, but more or less. I suppose it’s just another one of his magical powers. What’s next?

“Now, let me see you walk,” says The Emperor.

I’ve never walked in such high heels—or in such an extravagant dress. I teeter; I totter. My ankles wobble.

“There’s no way I can do this!” Seriously, how does he expect me to walk in these shoes when I can barely balance in them?

---