Lies, Knives and Girls in Red Dresses by Ron Koertge

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Snippets

Page 1: We were always close. As girls we lay in bed kissing and pretending one of us was the prince…Even in tatters Ella was desirable- a little thigh showing here, some soot at her cleavage. And what a tease- dashing way at midnight leaving the heir to the throne groaning in his purple tights.

Page 2: And then You-Know-Who comes out of the kitchen barefoot with some wisps of golden hair stuck to her brow and he all but goes to his knees and sucks on her perfect toes. And then, insult to injury, we have to go to the wedding. Mother insisted. There will be men there. Other princes or earls or rich merchants or anybody, really, with a penis and a pulse. …We still hold each other and kiss but now one of us pretends to be Death and the other his grateful bride.

Page 81: I see him ogling my breasts and I think, “If you want one of them black and the other one blue, if those are your favorite colors or something, go ahead and grope. Don’t let the screaming bother you.” …The night I showed up here I was running away from a sadistic bastard who beat me. With chopsticks, I admit, but it was still awful. I need to talk to the queen. She’s desperate. We can work something out. Some surrogate arrangement, maybe. A lusty wench from the kitchen, perhaps, who likes a little rough-and-tumble. We’ll make her rich. She’ll keep her mouth shut. I’ll stuff pillows under my gown and pretend to puke in the morning. She’ll have the heir and feed him from those big slap happy knockers.

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