Oversleeping beauty
“Why do you have to go?” asks Butter. As her name suggests, she is a milkmaid. Rounded with creamy, freckled skin, she looks and smells as delectable as a cinnamon bun.
Coleman, as long and dark as Butter is plump and fair, rolls out of bed and pulls on his pants. He is, like it or not, a prince. “We’ve already talked about this,” he sighs. “It’s a family obligation. I have to kiss my cousin, the princess, and wake her from an enchanted sleep. You have nothing to worry about. It’s just a kiss.”
Butter spits angrily onto the earthen floor. “Yeah, right. I’m not an idiot. Even I’ve heard of true love’s kiss. You’ll kiss your cousin, fall in love and get married under a cloud of songbirds. You’ll be covered in bird shit, and Timmy and I will never see you again.”
“I’ve told you a thousand times that’s just a myth,” he rumbles, trying to convey the extremity of his exasperation while speaking softly enough not to wake the baby.
It doesn’t work. Timmy starts howling and Butter throws him a glare that would reduce a lesser man to ash.
To be continued.
