The Nutcracker Princess
By Courtney Milnestein
She could not sleep. Turning over under the heavy sheets, she wondered how anyone could sleep, especially not on a night such as this, with the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg rich in the air, the conversation of the adults from the drawing room low and hushed, full of warning and suggestions of disaster. She didn’t need to hear them to know what the topic of discussion was, instead turning once more, kicking out against the duck-feather duvet, much to the disgust of her unhappy cat, Jolly Roger.
Sighing wearily, Clara did her utmost not to repeat in her head those hushed concerns that she knew her father would be stating right at that very moment, a room full of men dressed in identical uniforms of starched shirts and pressed jackets nodding
