I was currently sitting in the Princess's personal solarium, which was so luxurious it made my previous high-end boutique in the city look like a roadside shack. The Queen—bless her worried, manipulative heart—had insisted I "act" the part of Milabuella. Apparently, the Nothingwood Kingdom wasn't ready for the headline: "Royal Princess Swaps Souls with Coffee Mogul; Kingdom Currently Run by Sassy Business Major."
So, here I was. In a dress that cost more than a small villa, sitting in front of a makeshift altar I'd demanded Joff build out of gold-leafed side tables.
The air shimmered, and Novella's face appeared in the smoke of the lemon and lavander scented candles.
Crunch. Slurp.
"Are you... are you eating my tribute right now?" I asked, my royal eyebrows twitching.
