" "Jerry, can I confide in you?" she asked with her eyes watering up. "Of course," I said sympathetically. "I'm not happy, Jerry." I stared at her in astonishment but said nothing. "I was probably too impulsive when I met the prince and was all caught up with the glamour and wealth and status. Marrying a prince is not nearly as romantic as it is in the fairytales. The prince is away a lot and when he's around, he can be abusive. You understand, don't your Jerry?" I nodded in agreement and she continued. "In fact, Jerry, when it comes to romance, the prince isn't a very good lover. He only wants to get satisfaction from me in bed and then go to sleep. He isn't nearly as playful as you, Jerry and to be honest, he doesn't have as nice a cock as you. He's probably with one of his mistresses now." My face flushed and then I said, "Ah, you remember." "Yes, Jerry I remember. I was so worked up and aroused that day at your house. With you fucking Marlene instead of me, I wanted you more. But what would they be doing on a sweets wrapper? The girl swallowed her mouthful, no longer interested, and brought her voice forwards again. She looked at the tiny marks, a soft blue. What did they say? The desire to know burned inside her. Asking one of the housefolk was out of the question. That would be the same as confessing to her pilfering. The first mark looked a bit like a tree from one side. Every wrapper had the same markings, she quickly confirmed. The next could have been a pile of dirt with a shovel sticking up, or a funny-looking wine glass, depending on which side was up. She had her voice practically pinned to the letter, all else forgotten, in the hopes that doing so would somehow reveal the secret. Maybe if she tried saying it. Just a guess, for she didn’t know how. The girl opened her mouth and plucked the out the first sound that came to mind. ‘Maa—’ ‘Hoy child,’ came a voice from before her. She jumped, nearly falling from the sofa. A man stood by the.
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