I did suggest meeting in our dance circle, but a lot of us still feel uneasy about leaving our private wing of the palace. Especially after last night. Though you wouldn’t think it, based on how our conversation for the last hour has revolved only around one hideous prince.
“Father did say that he won’t permit Hugo to marry any of the girls under eighteen, and Ami’s out of the question too considering he has ‘other plans’ for her.” Blossom passes me a concerned look. “But everyone else is fair game.” She sighs, leaning back against the chaise longue. “I’m sorry girls, but it seems like he’s set on this. There’s nothing we can do.”
“Oh there’s plenty we can do,” Dahlia says, pushing herself off my bed. “I say we throw ourselves into the river and rub mud all over our hair and our faces! Then we’ll be covered in spots and stinking by the next time he sees us.” She spins to face the group, grabbing fistfuls of her sleek hair and scrunching it against her head. “No one will want to marry ugly princesses.”
A few of the younger girls chuckle at the ugly faces Dahlia pulls.
“I’m not jumping into any rivers!” Camellia cries from her spot on the rug. She grasps for her shoulder-length brown hair and strokes it protectively. “And I won’t be clogging my pores with any mud. Don’t any of you remember how long it took me to make the right creams to balance my skin? And I will not be helping any of you balance yours after you come out looking like river monsters.” Her pretty face falls into a frown while Dahlia just laughs.
“Oh, Mel, you needn’t worry about jumping into any rivers.” Dahlia grins deviously. “You’re already ugly enough as is.”
I’m about to tell her off when I stop.
Another flash of red appears, this time over Dahlia’s eyes.
My brow scrunches in confusion, but then Camellia growls, and I remember what’s about to happen.
“Camellia, no—” I stand up, but I’m already too late.
The room is in chaos. Around me, my sisters squeal, while Camellia leaps off the floor to throw herself upon Dahlia. There’s a struggle – blur of lace and fists – until Camellia has her sister pinned to the floor, and the room erupts into cheers.
“You take that back you foul—” Camellia swats at Dahlia’s face. “Greedy—” another smack. “Horrible, awful little—” She’s about to tear out a chunk of black hair when Blossom and I finally drag the two girls apart. Like hauling two screaming hogs, we drag them to opposite sides of my bedchamber.
“Stop this at once! You two are like animals.” Blossom throws Dahlia onto my bed.
“At least I’m not an ugly animal.” Dahlia shoves Blossom away before cackling. “But I’ll admit, Mel, you put up a good fight. Though your hits could use some work. I’m barely bruised!”
She gestures to her bare face as Camellia writhes against my hold, her olive cheeks turning purple.
“You are a swine,” she spits. “I hope the prince chooses you to marry him!”
“Enough of this,” I cut in. “Nobody is marrying the prince. Now calm down, both of you.” My gaze burns on Dahlia, who just shrugs, then Camellia, who reluctantly stomps back to her place on my rug. “This is all so pathetic. None of this fighting is helping any of us find a way out of this situation,” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Now, please, tell me one of you has a real idea.”
For the first time since sunset, silence falls over the room.
We all blink at each other expectantly.
“Anyone?” I plead.
“Maybe we could poison him?” Iris, ninth eldest, grins.
Excited murmurs ripple through the bedchamber. With a scoff, I shake my head.
“Appealing, but no. I’m sure he has a taster for his food, and even if we could find a way to do it, I doubt any of us would want his blood on our hands,” I say.
“What if we write him a letter that convinces him to go home?” Blossom thinks out loud. She’s leaning back on my chaise longue, twirling a coil of black hair around her fingers.
“A letter?” I press.
“Yes,” she says. “Perhaps we can forge his kingdom’s seal and write about an attack on one of his villages or something like that. Anything that will make him have to leave.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “I like that idea.”
“It wouldn’t work, though.” Camellia frowns. “He’ll travel home then come back here immediately after realising it was all a trick. Father will probably let him marry all of us when he finds out we did it. He’d be furious.”
My heart sinks. She makes a good point. It could work, but only temporarily.
“There must be something!” I groan.
