The Exiled Princess
The flakes giggled and then burst apart, reforming in a larger cluster that fluttered upward like tiny icy butterflies.
Everyone froze.
Lucian pointed at them in horror. “Make it stop.”
“You act like this is new for me,” I said, offended.
“It is new for all of us,” Marek muttered.
A pup ran through the center of the foyer, laughing as the enchanted snowflakes flurried around him like a personal snowstorm. “Aveline, look. They like me.”
The snowflakes swirled happily around his head.
“They like everyone,” I said. “They are friendly.”
Bab Populer