“I want to be a princess today!” Sally returned, unwisely defiant in the face of her father’s escalating frustration, she went on to cry in equal frustration, “And this is my only princess dress!”
“Princess.” Isabella heard mumbled from beside her and she saw that Jason had joined them, dressed in his school uniform. His eyes were on his sister and he was shaking his head with disbelief. “Mental,” he finished.
“Jace, your contribution isn’t needed,” Prentice said to his son, Jason gave Isabella a hilariously disgusted look (at which Isabella did not laugh, even though she wanted to) and wandered out of the room.
Prentice’s eyes cut back to his daughter and he said warningly, “Sally –”
“I wanna be a princess!” she shrieked, Prentice tensed and then he turned his gaze to Isabella, brows going up.
She stared at him.
He expected her to do something.
Her.
Isabella.
She had no idea what to do!
She looked at Sally.
Sally was still scowling stubbornly at her father.
Then it came to her.
“Hmm,” Isabella murmured, putting her forefinger to her lips as her eyes travelled Sally and Sally’s gaze went to her. Isabella continued, “Of course, Cinderella ended up a princess but she didn’t get that by demanding to wear her best dress during the day. In fact, that was something her evil stepsisters would do, seeing as they were spoilt rotten. The evil stepsisters likely wore their best princess party dresses everyday while Cinderella wore her normal clothes. That’s probably why the fairy godmother came to visit Cinderella, because she needed to have a special occasion to wear her best princess party dress.”
Sally’s scowl had disappeared and she was watching Isabella in childlike horror at the very thought that she might be more of an evil stepsister than Cinderella.
Isabella felt Prentice’s eyes on her but she didn’t spare him a glance.
“So, I suppose, if you don’t wait for a special occasion to wear your best princess party dress then, when you need her, your fairy godmother will never come to visit.” Isabella shrugged with indifference then finished, “Oh well.”
She turned to Prentice and saw he was watching her, biting back a smile. She didn’t react to this; she just started to leave the room.
“I want a visit from my fairy godmother!” Sally cried, her voice desperate.
Isabella immediately switched directions, walked up to Sally and guided her to her wardrobe while muttering, “Then let’s get you some normal clothes, sweetheart.”
She was tugging Sally’s flower girl dress over her head when she felt her wet hair swept over one shoulder and then she felt Prentice’s hand at her waist at the same time she felt his lips at the nape of her neck.
She shivered, felt his presence depart and, by the time she whirled, Sally free of the dress, all she saw was his back as he strode from the room.
When she and Sally descended the stairs, Prentice was sipping coffee in the kitchen, his shirt now tucked in and boots on his feet and Jason was making toast.
“Do we have to have porridge again today?” Sally asked, skipping to a stool.
Isabella entered the kitchen and started to get busy as she said, “No, honey, I’ll make you some eggs.”
“I don’t want eggs. I want you to make some of your cookies,” Sally replied, clearly determined never to give up on the idea that, one day, someone would relent and she’d get sweets for breakfast rather than just breakfast.
“No cookies. Eggs,” Isabella returned, deciding today was not that day and she certainly wouldn’t be the one who would relent.
“Pancakes,” Sally pushed.
“Eggs,” Isabella repeated.
“Pancakes!” Sally shouted.