Let Him Eat Cake Tita n Pa ge “And here the pale pawn hops hurriedly across the battlefield before being promptly pummeled by a black knight. Tragically, your kingdom crumbles one peasant per play as I expand my borders beyond the shadows.” Princess Praline rolled her eyes at her mother’s make-believe. “Checkmate,” she cheered, casting the queen’s obsidian king across the courtyard. She placed her marble pawn upon a stygian square and started skipping away. “What?” the queen scoffed sarcastically, feigning frustration. “I request a rematch!” “Maybe in the morning, mummy,” Praline pandered as she pirouetted into their palace. The scarlet sun threw stark shadows across the floor, slowly surrounding the preteen princess in darkness as she pranced past her pet’s playroom. Pork-Chop’s patient purring rumbled through the castle before the enormous lion lumbered toward her, touting his twenty-nine teeth and letting loose a thunderous roar. He stopped short at her humble curtsey and sniffed the gold garnishing her curly chestnut coiffure before licking her face. “I’ll give you your birthday present tomorrow, Pork-Chop,” the princess promised. The lion growled with greed and rolled on his back, mashing his mane into his favorite rustic rug. Wind whistled through jagged windows as the sunlight slipped below the horizon. “But right now we should sleep,” she whispered, wrapping her frigid, fragile fingers in his paw. The purring Pork-Chop pulled the princess onto his back and bounded off to bed.
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