Extraits

"You’re right. That’s an ogre slayer up there. You really do know your stuff,” Keithwood replied, opting to keep to himself the final part of his comment—“Except for when it comes to mushrooms.”

Seriously, what is it about this girl and mushrooms? How can she be so obsessed with them while also being so poorly informed about the things?

He’d only begun to dwell on the walking enigma that was Mia before he abruptly seized her wrist. The motion was becoming sort of a reflex by now. A few inches from her outstretched hand was a white mushroom, its hue so bright and brazen that it all but screamed “lethally toxic.” They both stared at it for a second before meeting each other’s gaze.

“...Yes?” he asked with a level look.

“Oh, I just, um...” she said, her tone sheepish but her hand unretracted. “I’ve never seen this mushroom before, and it looked sort of interesting...and I was wondering if maybe it could add some flavor to our dinner? Like a secret ingredient or something?”

“It cannot.”

“But, but, it might taste really good—”

“We cannot use it.”

« Mushrooms really bring out the flavor in a soup, you know? Especially in hare stew—”

“If you want hare stew, we’ll have to catch a hare first. And find something to stew it in. Therefore, I believe the proper progression should be to worry about flavors and secret ingredients after we procure those items first. Does that sound right to you, Princess Mia?”

He smiled. Well, his lips did, anyway. Nothing else on his face involved themselves in the effort.

“Ugh, fine,” she said, finally relenting before adding with a sigh and a what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you shake of her head. “But Keithwood, you really need to learn to be a little more flexible. You « won’t make any friends if you’re always such a party pooper.”

A vein popped on his temple, but he maintained his smiling facade and kept reminding himself of her generosity with the cookies until it receded. A cookie’s worth of gratitude goes a long way!

He made a mental note to never leave her alone with anything important to their survival, for he knew well that there was nothing more dangerous than a little knowledge. The most disastrous failures came from those who thought themselves capable.

Looks like I’d better keep an eye on the princess... he thought before his fears were promptly confirmed.

“Oh, I have an idea! If we’re going to look for food, why don’t you let me handle the forest? I’m quite familiar with the things that grow there, you know? All the plants and mushrooms and—”

“That sounds like an excellent idea, but I’m afraid I’ll have to accompany you on your woodland quest, Princess Mia. Since we don’t know what the island is home to, for your safety, I’ll need— humbly request that you follow my instructions when we’re there. Will that be all right?”

He smiled a cordial smile—the kind where the lips and cheeks and eyes were all technically curving in the right directions, but there weren’t quite enough muscles involved for it to be genuine. This subtle imperfection was completely lost on Mia. 

She fixed her maid with a steady gaze and repeated herself.

“You are my loyal subject, Anne. I trust that you will not lie to me. So, I will ask one more time. Tell me truthfully. Am I...fat?”

Anne looked away, unable to meet her gaze, and conceded.

“Maybe...a little. Just a little. But that’s probably because of all those cakes and sweets you’ve been having lately. I was worried it might have been a bit too much...”

She’d known the truth. After all, she’d been the one to ask. But hearing it acknowledged by her faithful maid still robbed her of breath. She let out a short gasp, feeling the weight of irrefutable, objective reality as it sunk into her consciousness—both figuratively and literally. Scenes from the recent past flashed through her mind’s eye. She saw herself climbing onto a horse and remembered how the beast seemed to tense as she mounted. She saw herself rolling across her bed and recalled the creaking of strained wood sounding louder than before.

More and more memories flooded her mind, all pointing toward a single, dreadful fact. She cupped her cheeks. They felt too round. She tapped at her tummy. It seemed to jiggle. That was it. The evidence was clear, and there was no denying it. She suffered from food-induced annular turgidity. Her body was demonstrating focally abdominal tumefaction. In other words, she was experiencing the phenomenon known as F.A.T.

“Princess Mia, um...” said a worried Chloe. “It says in books that you can lose weight by exercising.”

She examined Chloe, who’d slipped into the swimsuit the tailor gave her without any trouble. It fit her like a glove. Mia scowled, feeling profoundly betrayed, before her indignation gave way to despondency.