Cin dashed through the moonlit garden, ballgown flapping like a rebellious curtain in a storm. Behind him, Princess Charming shouted, “Wait! I made us matching capes!”
“No offense, Your Royal Neediness,” he gasped, vaulting a rosebush, “but I’m not into capes—or being kidnapped by affection!”
One glass slipper exploded mid-stride. Cin winced. “Ugh, again? Curse these clown feet!”
From behind, “We can get custom ones!”
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