Princess & the Dragon Therapist: Jewelry Box [168]

The dragon peered over her spectacles at the Princess, who sat in the overstuffed comfy chair with a mischievous grin plastered across her face and a nondescript jewelry box balanced in her lap.

“Princess,” the dragon growled, “why did you bring that thing here?”

The Princess giggled. “This is my new pet. I call her ‘Surprise Bitches’.”

“Surprise indeed,” the dragon huffed. “Where did you get that thing?”

“My cousin’s wife, Prunhiline, sent her for the Winter Festival,” the Princess said with a smirk. “She knew I’d love her. So here she is.”

“Princess, those creatures are lethal. Far worse than your manticore, werewolf, or hellhound. Please tell me you plan to lock it somewhere secure, like the dungeon,” the dragon snarled.

“Oh, please,” the Princess dismissed, “She’s perfectly tame, and I have the perfect use for her.”

“Let me guess, terrorize your suitors?” the Dragon huffed.

“Well, obviously,” the Princess said, rolling her eyes. “Anyone who wants a kiss needs a mint. A mint I’ll keep right here,” she tapped the jewelry box, which smiled, showing sharp teeth, “Bam! She springs to life and bites their fucking arm off. I’m going to shout, ‘Surprise, bitches!’”

The dragon sighed heavily. “Of course you are.”