He held up a hand, waving it for emphasis. “All I wanted was a decent ride and a home where the landlord wasn’t breathing down our necks. You not only sent me back in time, you dropped me in a place with some homicidal king? What—was it too hard to conjure up a Toyota?”
Jade batted her eyes innocently. “The test is part of the story. Now calm down and listen up. This is what’s happened so far: You’re a Capenzian soldier returning from a war against Briardrake. The good news is your country won. The bad news is you’re poor.”
Donovan clenched his jaw, his expression dark. It only made him look more broodingly handsome.
“While you made your way through a nearby forest,” Jade Blossom continued, “you came across a beggar woman who sat shivering from the cold. You gave her your coat, and she transformed into the most stunningly gorgeous and exquisite fairy a mortal has ever seen.” Jade Blossom put her hand to her chest. “That would be me. As a reward for your selflessness, I gave you a magic invisibility cloak. Don’t lose that, by the way. It’ll take forever to find it again.”
“Go on,” Donovan said stiffly.
“The story allows me to give you one other important piece of advice: Drink nothing the princesses give you. They may be beautiful and lovely, but every single one of them wants you dead.”
Donovan’s gaze snapped to mine, astonished.
“Hey,” I held up both hands, “I just got here too. I don’t want anyone dead.”
Jade Blossom leaned closer to his ear, her skirts rustling in satin whispers. “Remember, you can’t trust her. She’s after our goblet.”
As Jade Blossom spoke, the clothes she wore changed, transformed from an elegant gown into a simple black dress and hair cap, the uniform of a servant.
Before I could guess why she’d done this, the dining room door swung open, and a middle-aged woman strode out. Her blue dress was crisp and spotless, her black cap perched tidily over her graying brown hair. She carried an air of authority in every step she took toward me. A ladies maid? A head servant, perhaps?
“Princess Mercedes, the king—” The woman stopped when she saw I wasn’t alone. She regarded Jade Blossom and Donovan with brows furrowed in disapproval. “Why have you brought this beggar to the main hall? If the lad wants something to eat, take him to the kitchen entrance.”
Jade Blossom gave a brief curtsy. “Pardon me, Madam Saxton, this man isn’t a beggar. He’s a soldier home from the war, and he’s come to try his hand at solving the king’s mystery. I was about to take him to see King Rothschild.”
“Is that so?” Madam Saxton looked Donovan up and down more thoroughly. A flicker of sympathy passed through her eyes but was quickly replaced by a resolute firmness. “I’ll take care of this,” she told Jade Blossom. “You may attend to your duties.”
Jade Blossom curtsied again, then walked back toward the hallway she’d come from. As soon as she turned the corner, a poof of green glitter fluttered to the floor. She must have gone back to wherever fairies went when they weren’t throwing unsuspecting mortals into other centuries.
“I am King Rothschild’s head housekeeper,” Madam Saxton said, still regarding Donovan. “You wish to see him?”
Chrissy had told me it was dangerous to change things in stories. But I didn’t see how it could be more dangerous than letting Donovan have the first shot at the goblet. I had to stop him from seeing the king.
“Madam Saxton,” I said, mustering up a regal tone, “we can’t allow this young man to see my father today. He should think about his request for several days to ensure it’s what he really wants.” I pointed to the hallway. “See him out, and make sure he doesn’t return for a week.”
Donovan’s eyes narrowed at me. “Oh, I don’t have to think about this. I want to see King Rothschild now.”
“That’s an order,” I told Madam Saxton. “See him out.”
Donovan took a step toward me. “The king said anyone could try to solve the mystery. Do your orders supersede his?”
Supersede? I hadn’t expected a guy with a probation officer to use that sort of word. Was he smart? Smarter than my supposed smartness?
Madam Saxton held up her hands to stop our argument, then dipped her head in a deferential bow to me. “Princess Mercedes, your concern for the lad’s safety does you credit. However, your father’s decree can’t be changed. Still, I’ve some leeway in weeding out those unsuited to the task.”
She eyed Donovan’s ragged clothing. “I suppose you think your life is so wretched, you’ve nothing to lose by attempting to uncover the secret of the princesses’ slippers. Nonetheless, I won’t admit you into the king’s presence unless I know you’re cleverer than your predecessors. I’ll ask you three questions. If you don’t answer each of them correctly, you’ll be on your way forthwith.”
Good. If Madam Saxton turned Donovan away, I would have time to scope out the goblet tonight. I might be able to figure out a way to take it. I fingered the pocket where I’d put Chrissy’s tickets, a movement Donovan noted.
Madam Saxton went on speaking to him. “A moment ago when I came through the door, I uttered four words: ‘Princess Mercedes, the king . . .’ What was the rest of my sentence going to be?”
Donovan wasn’t flustered by this new demand. Without hesitation, he answered, “The king wishes you to join the family for supper.”
“And how do you know this?” the housekeeper asked.
“I smelled food when you opened the door, and King Rothschild is the sort of man who wants to know where his daughters are at all times. I’m sure it’s bothering him not to know where Princess Mercedes is.”
Madam Saxton nodded, satisfied by his explanation. “My second question is: What is one of the talents Princess Mercedes possesses?”
I inwardly groaned. The question was too easy. This was a story about twelve dancing princesses.
Donovan pretended to give the question thought. “Have the princess walk around me.”
Madam Saxton prodded me to do so. I felt odd, but I circled Donovan once then twice. His eyes followed me, taking in every inch. He was probably trying to look contemplative. Mostly he just looked amused.
“One of her talents?” Madam Saxton called as I made my third loop.
He lowered his voice so only I would hear. “With a name like that, I bet she’s got a talent for driving.”
“What?” Madam Saxton asked.
“Dancing,” he said. “She’s a beautiful dancer.”
“How did you come to that conclusion?”
“She moves with grace and elegance.”
“Or,” I said under my breath, “you remember the name of the fairy tale.”
“That too,” he said.
I forced a smile. “Let me ask the third question.” Without waiting for Madam Saxton’s consent, I turned to Donovan. “What did I wear yesterday?”
It was the perfect question. He couldn’t know the answer. If he said any kind of gown, he’d be wrong. And if by chance he guessed the right answer—jeans and a brown T-shirt—Madam Saxton would think he was crazy and dismiss him.
Donovan smirked, his blue eyes going full blast. “Clothes.”
“What kind of clothes?” I asked.
“That’s four questions,” he said. “When do I talk to the king?”
Madam Saxton held up her hands again. “The task was to answer three of my questions. Come with me, please.”
She headed down the hall, shoes tapping against the stone floor in a brisk rhythm. We followed after her, walking into a room that seemed to be an office. A wooden desk and an ornate chair sat in front of a large fireplace. Shelves along the wall held boxes, scrolls, books, and several abacuses.
Madam Saxton motioned for me to go to the desk. I did, noting a large painting on one wall that showed the king, queen, and twelve princesses sitting in rows beside them. There was something surreal about seeing my face among them.
Madam Saxton closed the door and addressed Donovan. “A keen and observant mind has helped you answer twice, but that alone can’t uncover the secrets a lady holds in her heart.”