![]() ![]() Her blue eyes grew round and she muttered, “A talking cat? I must be dreaming. “Mnghh!” Etheldred raised her arm to brush me away, but when her hand touched fur she recoiled and woke. I hopped lightly onto the princess’s pillows and put my cold nose beside her surprisingly shell-like ear. She was asleep, as was the pretty ginger-haired girl who lay with her head on Etheldred’s shoulder and her bare arm about Etheldred’s waist. I was angry to see them prancing about in my wardrobe, but not so angry as I would have been had my clothes proved flattering to anyone but myself. Try as I might, I could not muster more than a grinding sense of annoyance at my faithless ladies-in-waiting. Some heretofore undiscovered instinct toward magnanimity bade me consider whether wearing my finery was, perhaps, punishment enough for stealing it. I spied Livith gasping frightfully in the ladies’ retiring room, her stays laced within an inch of her life to fit the narrow waist of my sage-green velvet ballgown. I found Hildithe clumping across the dance floor at a soirée in the east wing with her knobby feet wedged into my scarlet satin dancing slippers. Instead they made merry in my absence and divided my gowns and shoes among them like a conquering army splitting the spoils of war. My ladies knew very well that I was not gone to rusticate, but they did not call the wizard on his lies. ![]()
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