Page 10 of That Prince is Mine
“Oh, good. I need a word with her.” Her godmother sounded like she meant business—the ass-whooping kind.
“Is everything okay?” Her dad was probably leading Auntie Soo to the living room, because her answer was too soft to decipher.
“Ready to go?” Emma turned to her client.
“Yup.” She seemed to deflate. “Time to go grade a pile of midterm papers.”
“Good luck with that. And don’t let the Sphinx intimidate you.” The Sphinx was the not-so-affectionate nickname the students had bestowed on Sarah’s supervising professor.
“Down with the Sphinx.” She pumped her fist in the air and laughed. “Bye, Emma.”
After closing the front door behind her, Emma pulled her shoulders back and headed for the living room. How bad could it be? She sighed. It could be bad. Like really bad. Angry Auntie Soo was so freaking scary.
“Imo”—Emma burst into the living room with a cheek-cramping smile—“what brings you here at this time of day?”
Auntie Soo looked as placid as a midnight lake, sitting on the couch with her hands folded over her thighs. Maybe she wasn’t angry? But her dad met her gaze with wide, frightened eyes and gave a subtle shake of his head. A warning. Emma gulped.
“Does anyone want a snack?” Emma said with even more forced cheer. “I have some gungjung ddeokbokki in the kitchen.”
“Gungjung ddeokbokki?” Her dad shot to his feet and matched her infomercial voice. “That sounds fantastic. We should all head to the kitchen and enjoy a first-rate afternoon snack.”
“Jae, why don’t you go ahead and start without us?” The very evenness of her godmother’s voice sent a trill of fear down Emma’s spine.
“I… I have to plate it for him,” Emma squeaked.
Auntie Soo kept her gaze on Emma’s dad. “You’re capable of transferring some rice cakes onto a plate, right?”
“Certainly.” Her dad nodded and kept nodding.
In all honesty, Emma wasn’t sure her dad could plate his own ddeokbokki. At least, not properly. Plating involved more than just transferring some food onto a plate. Her godmother knew that. The fact that she acted so dismissive of the fact meant she was mad. Like really mad.
“But…” Emma bit her lip.
“It’s just one snack, Emma.” Auntie Soo’s expression softened a fraction. “Your dad doesn’t need to be presented with a work of art every time he sits down to eat.”
“Your godmother’s right.” Her dad’s eyes roamed her face with heartrending love and sadness. Emma didn’t want to parse out what that meant. “I’ll be fine, my dear.”
Even so, her dad stood rooted to his spot in front of the sofa. Only when Emma nodded and mouthed I’ll be okay did he leave her alone with her godmother. With a sigh, she sat down beside her.
All traces of softness left her godmother’s face. “Would you like to hear what people are saying about you?”
“Not particularly.” Emma stared down at her hands.
“The consensus is that you are beautiful but… gross.”
“Beautiful?” Emma snorted. “I’m passably pretty on my best days.”
Auntie Soo gaped at her. “But you are gross?”
“I didn’t say…” She did pretend to blow her nose into a cloth napkin. “Maybe?”
When her godmother leveled her steely gaze on her, Emma felt like a middle schooler caught drawing little penises with capes in her spiral notebook. “Explain yourself.”
“I don’t know,” she said with a helpless shrug. “None of the men seemed compatible with me.”
“The men I matched you up with?” Auntie Soo pressed her hand to her chest. “They weren’t compatible with you?”
“No, Imo. Of course they were compatible.” Emma winced. The last thing she wanted was to insult her godmother’s skills as a matchmaker. “I… I guess I just wasn’t in the right frame of mind.”
