A Pearl Among Princes by Coleen Paratore Page B

pass. Their faces reveal that they think this class will be a waste of their time and intelligence.
    â€œA class in dating ?” Sir Richard says mockingly. “I need no such instruction. My degrees in this field are well documented.”
    Sir Peter laughs. “I’ll check you on that, mate. But the . . . grace- full girls of Miramore may have something to teach us yet.”
    I smile at the word “graceful.”
    â€œGrace- pearl -ful, you mean,” Sir Richard says, and I nearly giggle aloud.
    When they have safely passed me, I run to meet Lu and Nuff. We crouch beneath the classroom window, ears peeled.
    â€œWelcome to Courtship and Special Occasions,” Professor Daterly says. “Since the long-standing rules of the Order have changed, no longer requiring or even expecting you royal boys to marry one of your own social class, you now have a much wider, more interesting field of flowers to choose from.”
    One of the PITs says something and there’s laughter. I peek in the window. Sir Humpty Dumpty is clipping his fingernails. He brushes the little arcs on the floor. Uggh . I cower back down.
    â€œBut this gardening is different, my young royal men,” Professor Daterly continues. “In this case, the flower does the picking.”
    More laughter. “Singe. You just got watered, Humbert.”
    â€œThat sounded like Sir Peter,” Lu says. She sneaks a look in the window. “Yes.”
    â€œDoes the prince from Elmland have an opinion?” Professor Daterly says, snapping back quickly as garden shears.
    â€œNo, ma’am,” Sir Peter says.
    â€œProfessor Daterly, to you, sir. Now, as I was saying, much has changed in the world since your great- grandfathers were seeking a match. As you know, historically, royal unions were based on matters of money or land or the military advantage a particular union might create.
    â€œToday you are not bound by such restrictions. You, young men of privilege, you may now marry for love.”
    â€œAnd the privileges ,” Humpty Dumpty shouts.
    Big-eared Sir Hickory begins laughing with high-pitched squeals that end in hiccups.
    â€œMuzzle it, mouse,” Sir Richard commands good-naturedly, and Sir Hickory does as he’s told.
    Professor Daterly claps her hands one, two, three . “Now then, to our first lesson. The Commandments of Dating. Memorize them. You will be tested tomorrow.”
    Nuff, Lu, and I roll our eyes. We have heard this lecture countless summers before. I think Professor Daterly is a bit too obsessed with dates, but she is the professor, so who am I to object?
    â€œCertain dates are particularly important,” Professor Daterly says. “And, no matter how charming you may be, or how much a girl adores you . . . you will not be forgiven if you forget them.
    Nuff pops up for a look. “They’re starting to take notes,” she reports.
    â€œNumber one,” Professor Daterly instructs. “Thou shalt remember the date you first met.
    â€œNumber two. Thou shalt remember the date of your first date. . . .”
    I look at Lu and Nuff, and we cover our mouths to quiet the giggles.
    â€œNumber three,” Professor Daterly continues. “Thou shalt remember the date of your first kiss.”
    â€œNow we’re getting somewhere,” Sir Peter says, and I can’t help but smile. I note Nuff is smiling too.
    â€œNumber four. Thou shalt always remember her birth date.
    â€œNumber five. Her mother’s birth date.”
    â€œExcuse me, Professor Daterly,” Sir Richard says, “with all due respect. Do girls really care so much about the calendar?”
    â€œSee how smart my prince is?” Lu says. I nod in agreement.
    â€œDuck,” Nuff whispers. “Professor Pillage is coming.”
    We hide in the bushes. As he passes, he looks toward the classroom window. “Foolish . . . sissyness . . . waste of time . . . are we teaching mice or