[Lavinia's Pov]
"Our princess is now seven years old!" Nanny announced with the kind of excitement usually reserved for royal weddings and discovering lost jewels.
"Finally!" Marella popped her head into the room like an overly enthusiastic jack-in-the-box. Her cheeks were flushed, curls bouncing. "Seven! What a divine number! Lucky! Magical! Oh, I remember how our princess was just a wrinkly pink dumpling—"
I blinked. Slowly.
Seven.
Seven years old.
I can't believe either...that I aged seven years. I can't believe I made it. Another 365 days as Lavinia Devereux—the villainess of the novel.
Growing up around these nutcases? A real achievement. And just like I said before...I really deserve a diamond crown.
In seven years, I had lived a life no adult would envy. Blood. Murder. Public executions. Political betrayal. Secret assassins disguised as maids. And let's not forget me being a quarter elf.
Truly, childhood dreams.
Oh God… What seven-year-old has even seen this much?
