“No, give that back!” I scream as Luca runs past me and snatches the crown right off my delicate head.
He laughs out loud and spins around on the grass a few feet away from me, dangling the crown between his index finger and thumb while wearing a disgusting smirk on his face. He blows aside a strand of his brown hair, his dark eyes taunting me. “C’mon then. I dare you to get it back.”
My eye twitches, and my hand curls into a fist. “Give. It. Back,” I say through gritted teeth.
When I approach him, he keeps backing up, making it impossible to retrieve.
“Stop,” I hiss.
“No,” he replies, grinning so broadly I want to take off these pretty new heels I got from Mom and jab them in his face.
Instead, I dig my heels in and sprint toward him, trying to catch him off guard. He twirls the crown around right as I catch up, giggling hard as he sidesteps to avoid me. “Missed,” he muses.
I growl in frustration. “Luca!”
“Jill!” He imitates my voice with a high-pitched tone, and the sound makes my blood boil.
“C’mon, Luca …” My sister, Jasmine, sighs as she follows us around the garden in her pink dress.
“What, Jasmine?” he scoffs.
“It’s not funny!” I jump to snatch the crown from his hand, but he keeps throwing it up and down, out of my reach, backtracking like he enjoys seeing me struggle.
So I stop and put my hands against my side. “Why do you do this? Huh?”
He raises a brow and shrugs. “Because you look stupid.”
My jaw drops, and a gasp escapes my mouth. “I do not!”
“Only queens and princesses wear crowns,” he retorts. “And you’re neither.”
I’m fuming so much it feels like steam might exit from my ears. “I am a queen!”
He waggles a finger. “Queens are only queens if they’re married to a king.” He plops the crown onto his own head. “Maybe I’ll be one now.”
Jasmine begins to giggle, but when I look at her, she slaps her hand in front of her mouth like she’s trying to hide it.
“C’mon then, Jill. You wanted to be a queen,” Luca jests, and he waves his hand and dips into a bow.
I frown. “What? You want me to be your queen?” I snort out loud.
He cocks his head. “A queen isn’t a queen if she isn’t married.”
I revolt at that thought.
Me marrying Luca? No way.
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