My Cardboard Balcony

Pretty Princess by Belinda Roddie She has sequins on her flowing skirt and stubble on her chin. She can woo the boys with wiggling fingers, bathed in vibrant, lush satin. She is curves and bends and esses, her leg angled just for show. They will buy champagne for her in jugs, the booze adding to her glow. Then she'll go home, strip, and change herself into black suit and necktie. She'll go down the street to the bar and grille to catch a damsel's eye. She is king and queen together, purple royalty as one. Pretty princesses need a night out, while dapper princes need their fun.

"Quite the eligible bachelor, aren't you?" asked Lord Bishop over a cup of tea and a scone. "So many years, and I've yet to see a bride." Sir Walter smiled. Lord Bishop was not privy to his private life, and he never would be. He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands against his lap, his fingers heavily scarred from the recently terminated war. "Sometimes," he murmured, "brides aren't exactly a priority. More tea?"