The Luna Choosing Game

Chapter 56

“Marry him, then.” She nodded, like it was decided. Like it was somehow that easy.

I hated disappointing her. I wished I could let her believe what she wanted.

“I’m sorry, Elva. But Prince Nicholas and I won’t ever be a couple. No matter what.”

She looked up at me with large, vulnerable eyes. “Not ever?”

I shook my head.

“But why?”

Because I broke his heart? Because he thought I had betrayed him? Because he’d returned the gift I’d

made him? Because he was a prince, and I was just a wolf–less waitress?

There were so many reasons. All of which felt like too much information for my small daughter.

“We’re just not meant to be,” I said.

Elva had a grasp of fairy tales and happily ever after. Even if she couldn’t understand everything, she

might be able to handle this much.

She must have, because her questions stopped. But then she started to cry.

“But I like him, Mommy,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “If you married him, then he would be my Dad.”

I hated more than anything to disappoint her, but what could I do? I couldn’t lie to her about this, not to

then have to reveal the truth like it was all some cruel joke.

Soon, I would be eliminated from the competition. I’d had a good showing tonight, but that didn’t mean !

I’d

be forced to leave. From then on, we’d

they went back to being reclusive. In that case,

our future held any hope

even as a

sorry,” I said, and

around my neck and

back to soothe her. “We’ll be okay. No matter

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fell asleep in my arms, I carried her back to our

for the night, but the quiet

for me to finish

bed, and Elva sleeping within it, I motioned the maid closer to the door. We spoke in quiet

said: “I don’t need anything more

at my offending gloves. I hadn’t forgotten the apparent betrayal of my maids, who surely knew bout the Queen’s rules for glove–length

the wrong gloves,” the quiet

at

gloves I’d scrunched up in my hand. “Those are not the gloves I made for you. I don’t know where those came from, or why they exist. I swear to you that I

from the Queen must have traveled fast in the servants‘ corridors. It likely wouldn’t take long until

the quiet maid said. “I don’t know why the other maid gave you the wrong gloves. Maybe it was an

“I

think so,”

“No”

had purposefully meant to sabotage

going to be the first one to go home. Why make things even

around, like an eavesdropper might be listening at the door. “Someone

shiver ran up my

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