Day two of the festival started with me accidentally throwing a bag of flour directly at Malachi's face.
We were running late because Pearl took forty minutes trying to tie her hair into a perfect "festival braid" she saw in a magazine. The moment we arrived at stall fourteen, everything was chaos.
"Amara, catch!" Des yelled, tossing a heavy sack of flour from the back of the supply carriage.
I wasn't ready. I panicked, swatted the bag away like a malfunctioning magic spell, and watched in slow motion as it burst perfectly against Malachi's chest. A massive cloud of white powder exploded into the air.
When the dust cleared, the elegant, proud crown prince of Astra looked like a freshly baked powdered donut. His dark sweater was completely white, and small clumps of flour were sitting on his eyelashes.
Pearl let out a loud snort, immediately covering her mouth. Des looked like he was about to pray to the gods for mercy.
