That prince is mine.
Not yet, of course. But I’ll get him. And his castle. And his kingdom! Mine. Then I’ll flaunt my victory in my stepsisters’ faces, rub their crooked noses in it. But they won’t get to taste my wealth, not a crumb.
Trouble is, I can’t do it until I’ve saved enough white magic. And to do that, I have to be good.
I hate being good.