Page 37 of Leda's Log

“Lady Iliana, a contestant in the last Princess Games,” Aspen explained. “She did not succeed in becoming Queen, but she certainly acts like a royal pain. She’s decided that scarlet is her signature color—and her color alone. She even made a public declaration to that effect.”

“Ok, then…”

I hung the dress back on the rack. I was going to be way too busy helping Aspen at the Ball. I certainly wouldn’t have time to banter with a delusional noblewoman who thought she held total dominion over the color scarlet.

“I have to ask, though, Aspen,” I said, “why does this shop even sell dresses in that color if it’s going to cause so much drama?”

“Because people here love their drama,” she replied. “I mean, we hold a public spectacle to decide who will become the nextQueen and the next King. Princesses fight each other to become Queen. Princes fight each other to become King. Doesn’t that just say everything right there?”

“And yet you want to participate,” I pointed out.

“Ihaveto participate. I can’t allow the evil and the cruel to rule our world. They will ruin it.”

“That’s very noble of you.”

She sighed like being noble made her tired. “I know.”

I eventually settled on a black dress, then Aspen and I headed into the men’s section of the shop, where Sierra was helping Nero select his outfit for this evening.

“How’s it going?” I asked him.

“Suboptimally.”

I slowly trailed my gaze up his body. “You look pretty optimal to me.” I brushed my hands down his chest. The smooth black fabric of his tuxedo was soft and supple to the touch. “Veryoptimal.”

“No,” Sierra said. Her cute little nose scrunched up. “Not that one.”

I peeled back the lapels of Nero’s tuxedo. “Yes,” I whispered into his ear. “This one.”

“No, Mommy,” Sierra snapped. “Work now. Kiss later.” She waved her hand at Nero, dismissing him to the changing room.

“How many tuxedos has she had you try on so far?” I asked him.

“This will be number fifty-two,” he said, taking the new tuxedo Sierra handed him. “And she says we won’t stop until we’ve found the perfect one.”

I chuckled. “Our daughter can be quite bossy.”

“I wonder where she gets it,” he said, magic flashing in his eyes. Then he stepped into the changing room.

I closed the curtains behind him before I gave in to temptation and followed him in there. The shop door openedand a crowd of random strangers poured inside. They made a beeline for Angel, who was keeping herself busy napping on one of the massive carpets.

“I’ve never seen such a large cat!” cooed a woman. “Who’s a good girl?” The woman crept closer. “Who’s a gooood girl?”

Angel opened her eyes just wide enough to shoot the woman an annoyed look, as if to say,How dare you interfere with my very busy life of being a lazy cat?Then she went right back to sleep again. The woman inched closer. She reached out her hand to pet Angel…

My cat let out a thunderous roar that sent the crowd scrambling for the door. But they didn’t leave. They just stood there, staring at Angel in awe.

“She is so fierce!” said a man.

“I could watch that cat sleep all day,” sighed the woman who’d tried to pet her.

She wasn’t alone in that. A line soon formed outside the shop. It stretched all the way down the street.

“Your gigantic cat is great for business!” said the lady shopkeeper. “She’s welcome here anytime!”

I chuckled to myself. Sure, she was happy now, but just wait until afterwards, when she tried to remove the twenty pounds of cat hair that Angel had left behind on her carpet. I could already see them now, delicate white hairs floating in the air, getting on all the dresses and tuxedos, like falling ash after a fire. Angel’s hair was everywhere. The shopkeeper would never get it all out.

“I am surprised to seeyouhere,” said a sharp, simpering voice.

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