Darcy
“Princess?” I question the witch. “Like an actual princess? How can I be a princess? I am trash,” I speak out quickly, and the witch’s eyes narrow.
“Trash?” Adrianna looks at Dad.
“You are not trash, Darcy,” Nathaniel clasps my hand.
“Who called you trash?” Adrianna questions me.
I sigh and look at the ground and play with my hair. “My Aunt Jean and Uncle Dieter.”
“Let’s sit down,” Mom beckons us to the couches. I sit next to Nathaniel, and Adrianna sits across from us. “I think you should start, Adrianna,” Mom says to the witch.
“I think so. May I get some tea?” She asks Mom.
“Of course. Chamomile with honey, right?” Mom asks Adrianna, and she nods.
“Anyways, as I said, you are Princess Cordelia. I mean, you look just like your mother, Queen Rowena.” Adrianna starts. “The
