The Perfectly Proper Prince by Suzanne Williams Page B

single gulp.”

    Lysandra drew herself up. “Not if I could defend myself.”
    â€œDon’t be ridiculous,” Owen said, sneering. “You’re a princess , remember? Sneaking out during your nap, pretending to fight trolls….” He shook his head. “I can’t wait to tell your mother.”
    Lysandra looked at him in alarm. “Please don’t tell.” She plucked nervously at the purse strap around her neck.
    â€œPlease don’t tell,” Owen mimicked in a high voice. Then he grinned. “Tell you what. Give me enough coins for a real sword and shield, and I’ll forget I saw you—this time.”
    Sighing, Lysandra opened her purse and shook a large pile of coins into Owen’s outstretched hand. She knew her uncle, Owen’sfather, would never allow Owen to buy a real sword and shield. Owen would likely spend the money on sweets instead. She hoped he’d end up with a horrible stomachache.
    â€œThanks,” Owen grunted, pocketing the coins. “Now scoot,” he said, “or I might change my mind.”
    Lysandra fled back to her room. Gabriella was still napping. Thinking hateful thoughts about Owen, Lysandra flung off her cloak and crawled into bed. Without meaning to, she fell asleep. She dreamed she was battling an enormous troll that had eaten several villagers. The handle of her silver sword gleamed with diamonds, emeralds, and rubies. “Take that, you beast!” Lysandra struck out with her sword. It flashed within an inch of the troll’s hairy hide.
    The troll reared back, his tiny eyes flickering with fear. Compared to the size of hisbody, his head was quite small. But he had a large chin—curiously like her cousin Owen’s. In fact, the troll looked a lot like Owen. Besides the chin, he had the same beady eyes and sneer.
    Lysandra pointed her sword at the troll’s chest. “I’ve got you now!” she exclaimed.
    â€œNo fair,” whined the troll. “If I were bigger, you couldn’t have gotten me.”
    â€œWhat?” Lysandra couldn’t believe his nonsense. The troll was taller than the castle’s highest tower and as big around as the moat. “I got you fair and square,” she said. “Now leave.”
    â€œFine,” said the troll, pouting. “I don’t want to stay here anyway!”
    As it stomped off, Lysandra felt a stab of pity for the troll. He might be an enormous, human-eating bully, but at heart he was nothing but a big baby. She opened her purse andflung several handfuls of gold after him. “Buy yourself a cartload of meat pies!” she shouted.
    Gabriella’s voice interrupted Lysandra’s dream. “Wake up, Sleepyhead. It’s time to redecorate the Crystal Ball Room.”
    Lysandra groaned. Next to sewing, decorating was her least favorite thing to do, and the Crystal Ball Room had to be constantly redone. Not a place for dances, as some people might think, the Crystal Ball Room was where her mother kept their crystal ball. It was the cleanest room in the castle, dusted by chambermaids five times a day. Fresh-cut flowers, replaced daily, stood on highly polished tabletops. And even though the room was rarely used, a fire roared in the fireplace all day and all night.
    The reason for this care was simple: If anyone looked in on them from a crystal ball in another castle or palace, this was the roomthey would see. And her family’s castle had to be seen in the best possible light. But, really, it was rather silly. Everyone knew Crystal Ball Rooms were only for show. Even the shabbiest castles had nice-looking Crystal Ball Rooms.
    â€œSince you’re just now getting up,” said Gabriella, “I’ll go on ahead. Meet me there in a few minutes, all right?”
    Lysandra nodded, but she took her time getting dressed. When she finally entered the Crystal Ball Room, two workmen were already busily repainting the wall,