What Comes of Attending the Commoners Ball

by Elisabeth Aimee Brown

For Logan, who is better than any fairytale prince: I love you more than cheese

His touch is both strong and gentle. Warmth sparkles up my arm and lodges itself firmly in my heart. Wonderful. Now I can never wash this hand again.

Lucas bends to help, fingers grazing mine as we reach for the same one. Well, there goes that hand too.

He walks across the room and withdraws a large packet of papers from his coat. Mum raises her eyebrows. “How did you fit all of those in one pocket?” I ask. That’s the sort of coat I need. My cloak’s pockets are irritatingly small.