I lied back down on my pillow with a moan. Chrissy was right. Her assistant was completely worthless.
Chapter 24
I’m not sure how long I slept. Too soon, the door to our bedroom swung open and the guard announced, “His Royal Highness, the King!”
A moment later, the king and queen swept into the room. Even dressed in heavy brocades, the queen had a light, fluttering walk. She went to one bed and then another, pulling back blankets. “A new day is upon us,” she cooed. “Meet it with grace and fortitude, my daughters.”
The king strode down the room between our beds, carrying a walking stick that he rapped against the bed poles. “Up with you! Line up in your bedroom today. Let’s see what mischief you’ve been at!” I rolled over and groaned. Why were these people up at the crack of dawn? Really, what was so important that they had to do it at first light?
The king rapped his stick against my bed especially hard, and I pulled myself from my blankets, yawning. My sisters were already retrieving their slippers. They made a show of gasping as they turned their slippers over this way and that, as surprised as if the footwear had turned into cucumbers. I grabbed mine and stumbled to my place at the end of the row. Donovan had come in and stood near the door, stretching. Madam Saxton smoothed her hair, tucking stray pieces into her cap. Her eyes darted around the room, guiltily.
The king stopped in front of our line. It’s hard to pull off a stern and foreboding look when you’re wearing what essentially are poofy bloomers, but King Rothschild managed it. Even his wrinkles looked disapproving. “Hold forth your slippers for examination.”
The king, then the queen, walked down our line inspecting each pair.
“Worn, worn, worn, worn,” the king muttered unhappily. “Worn, worn, worn, worn.” His voice grew louder the farther he went. “Worn, worn, worn . . .” He stopped in front of me took my slippers from my hand and turned them over in his. “Only a trifle worn.” I hadn’t danced, and I’d come back early. My slippers were just a bit scuffed and dirty on the bottom.
The king eyed me warily. “Yesterday when your sisters’ slippers were worn, yours were damp and near destroyed. Today, your slippers once again differ from the others. Pray tell, how is this so?”
I shrugged and shook my head as though I had no words to describe this phenomenon.
The king’s eyes narrowed. “Were you with your sisters all night?”
I couldn’t answer that question. I bit my lip and blinked innocently. “You’re angry because my slippers aren’t worn?” Questions weren’t lies. “I thought you didn’t want our slippers to be worn. Shouldn’t you be glad?”
The king gripped my slippers hard, waving them at me. “I thought nothing could bother me more than knowing my daughters are nightly up to some secret tomfoolery. But lo, I was mistaken. It irks me more to know that while your sisters are doing whatever it is they do, you’re up to mischief of your own.” He dropped my slippers on the floor and stalked over to Donovan.
“Well, Young Prince, what say ye? Do you know what my daughters did last night to wear . . .” He glanced back at me. “What most of my daughters did to wear out their slippers?”
Madam Saxton apparently wanted to be as far away from the king and the discussion of last night as she could be. She went to Rosamund’s dressing table and straightened it.
Donovan rubbed his chin, thinking. “Good King, I would not tell you my theory until I am sure it is the right one. I require one more night to solve the mystery.”
The king let out a grunt. “’Tis fortunate you require only one more night, as that is all you have. Tomorrow morning when I come, I shall bring the executioner with me.”
The queen strode over to Donovan, wearing her ever-present smile. “And I shall bring the priest, for I’m sure you’ll have the answer we seek.” She put her hand to her chest. “It will be so lovely to see our dear Sadie wed. We’ll be thrilled to have someone we can call a son at last.”
The king grunted again, obviously less thrilled than the queen.
Donovan put on one of his usual confident smiles. He looked particularly handsome like that, standing tall and straight, a secret humor in his eyes.
“I ask one more favor of you,” he said. “Do you have a library, a wizard—someone that knows how to break fairy curses?”
The queen’s hand flew to her throat in alarm. “Have our daughters fallen prey to a fairy’s wrath?”
“It’s a possibility,” Donovan said solemnly.
I held my breath, hoping the king and queen knew a way to help Jason.
The king walked down the row of princesses, still regarding us. “Other suitors have considered the possibility of a fairy curse. We’ve placed fairy wards in the room. Iron. Bread. T’was to no effect.”
Donovan gave a small agreeing bow. “That is why I need to study the matter further.”
Madam Saxton poured water from Rosamund’s pitcher into her basin, then moved to Beatrix’s table and did the same. Why hadn’t I considered the housekeeper might help us wash up in the morning? I should have hidden Jason somewhere else, somewhere safer. If the king didn’t finish grilling us soon, Madam Saxton would reach my pitcher and see a frog inside it. I went through the possible outcomes in my mind.
1) Madam Saxton would see the frog and kill it. This would be bad.
2) Madam Saxton would see the frog and question us as to why it was there. My sisters would leave the explanation up to me and my nose would end up growing a foot long. This would also be bad.
3) Madam Saxton would see the frog and before she could kill him, Jason would plead for mercy or a perhaps a kiss. Again, bad.
I cleared my throat. “Madam Saxton, you don’t need to help us with our washing. We’re happy to do it ourselves.”
The king turned to me, disapproval weighing his brows downward. He’d been talking to Donovan about fairies, and I’d interrupted. “You speak out of turn in the presence of your father and king? That is twice the disrespect.”
Madam Saxton halted her motions, waiting to see if the king had directions regarding my request.
I fidgeted with the lace on my sleeve. “I meant no disrespect. I was only trying to be helpful.” Specifically, I was trying to help Jason. And myself. “Anyone who has kept watch in our room all night should be allowed to go and rest in her room.”
The queen nodded in agreement. “I’m sure Madam Saxton must be over-weary.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jason leap up and cling to the rim of my pitcher. He’d heard my remark about washing up and peeked over to see what was happening.
If the housekeeper or my parents looked in my table’s direction, they would see Jason. I sent him a psychic message to drop back down and hide.
Apparently Jason had no psychic abilities. Instead of returning to the pitcher, he jumped out altogether. He landed on the dressing table with a splatting sound.
The king turned back to Donovan to speak to him, but the housekeeper heard the noise. She gawked at the table and gasped. “Gracious! What is that doing in here?”
All heads turned to see what had startled her. The king’s head. The queen’s head.
“Heavens,” the queen said. “A huge toad.”
“Impossible,” the king declared, then he saw it too. It was hard not to see Jason. He leaped from the table onto the floor.