089
089. Tongue Tied
Grekik squinted at Sarah, trying to see past the flaming watermelon of what he assumed was probably some kind of dress.
"You want me to what, Lady?"
He was trying to listen, really he was, but that dress was screaming at him.
"I want you to escort me to the party, Grekik." She smiled, showing far too many teeth. "Can you do that?"
"The king—" Grekik stopped and reconsidered. Now was probably not the time to start arguing. Instead, he took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, Lady."
Sarah grinned and took his arm, stepping into the mirror.
"Wonderful."