“I did it like this.” Donovan reached into the pouch on his belt and held up a coin. With one swish of his hands, the coin disappeared. He held up his empty hand, then reached out and pulled the coin from Beatrix’s ear.
She laughed and took the coin, turning it over in her hand to examine it. “What sort of magic is this, sir?”
“That was so cool,” Penny said, coming closer. “Do it again.”
“Try it on me,” Catherine chimed.
Really, they would have made him stand there making coins appear and disappear all day, if I hadn’t dragged Donovan away.
“Go check on the goblet,” I told him. “I’ll take Jason and anyone who will help me to the library. We’ll see if we can find anything about turning frogs back into humans.”
Chapter 25
As it turned out, all the princesses wanted to help. I would’ve like to think this was because they were nice people, but they may have worried that one day one of their princes would do something to tick off Queen Orlaith and they would be in the same boat.
Everybody wants a handsome prince. Nobody wants a frog.
We took our breakfast up in the king’s library. It was a large room with gleaming wooden shelves that reached the ceiling. I hadn’t expected to see so many books, hadn’t thought King Rothschild was the literary type. Rows of books spread along the walls, worn leather covers next to colorfully painted volumes. A sliding ladder stood at the end of the shelves, tempting us to search on the dusty top shelves.
We ignored the history, etiquette, and law tomes and pulled out anything to do with medicine or magic. I took an armful, stacked them by a couch, and settled in to read. The first volume was entitled Restoratives for Common Ailments. I doubted the author counted froghood as a common ailment, but you never knew. Princes were frequently turned into animals in fairy tales.
Next to me, Clementia flipped through a book about wizards’ spells. “It seems true love is the cure for many an ailment. I don’t know why it didn’t work this time. After all, your love is true enough to bring you together each night.”
Obviously not. Or maybe the problem was more complicated. Love wasn’t curing the fairies’ trees. Could love have lost its magic power? Or perhaps true love differed from romantic love. Jason thought he loved me. He didn’t really, though. Otherwise he wouldn’t want to hide me from his friends.
I didn’t want to hide Donovan. Although, come to think of it, I did want to hide his police record. Was that just as bad? Did you have to love everything about a person to truly love them?
My mom thought sports were a waste of time and nagged my dad if the ESPN was on too long. Dad thought Mom spent money on things she didn’t need, and sometimes he acted like a martyr when he paid the credit card bills. But wasn’t every couple like that?
How could I judge other people’s feelings when I wasn’t sure what real love was myself? I rested the book on my lap and watched Jason. He was perched on the top of Kayla’s chair, saying something that made her laugh.
“What is true love?” I asked out loud. “Does it take years? Or can it develop in an instant?”
Catherine casually turned a page. “It doesn’t take years. I had known my darling Leopold for only one night when I came to love him.”
Beatrix, who sat in a chair on my other side, added, “I knew I loved Frederick the moment he asked me to dance. When he took my hand, I could think of nothing but him.”
Mathilda and Philippa nodded in agreement. Rosamund put down one book and picked up another. “I tread more carefully in matters of the heart. Geoffrey wooed me for an entire month before he won me.”
All of my sisters were smiling, lit up with happiness by the thought of their princes.
“But how do you know it’s true love?” I pressed.
Beatrix sniffed, offended, and turned a page with extra force. “Of course what we feel is true love.”
Rosamund straightened. “Would we risk our father’s wrath every night otherwise?”
Maybe. It didn’t take much to invoke the king’s wrath. Having any sort of fun probably invoked his wrath. “I wasn’t implying your feelings aren’t real,” I explained. “I’m just wondering about love in general.”
Beatrix’s expression softened. “You know it’s true love because his name on your lips tastes like honey.”
“You know,” Elizabeth said, “because your soul soars at the sight of him.”
Darby let out a low whistle. “You know because he looks hot even when he’s wearing dorky half-pants and stockings.”
Hmm. Couldn’t I have said all those things about Jason before I got to know him? I didn’t feel that way now. “The Queen’s goblet said love was a choice. What does that mean?”
Catherine held her book down. “If the goblet said such a thing, it knows little of love. One doesn’t choose love. It chooses you—like cupid’s arrow striking your heart.”
“I didn’t want to fall in love with Prince Edgar,” Isolde put in. “I thought to be an obedient daughter and marry whomever father picked.” She smiled dreamily. “But when Edgar murmured my name in the moonlight, I was lost.”
Everyone chimed in, agreeing they too had meant to be the most dutiful of daughters until struck down by the forces of love. And I was left unsure about any of it. I didn’t feel lost when I was with Donovan. I felt . . . found. Like he had found a part of me I’d forgotten long ago.
Was I just responding to the first guy who’d ever really taken an interest in me? Was I rushing into things? Would either of us feel the same when we got home?
I dwelt on these questions while I skimmed restoratives for coughs, warts toothaches, fevers, and something called apoplexy. Not long afterward, Donovan came in the room. For a moment my soul soared at the sight of him. Which meant maybe my sisters knew what they were talking about after all. When had the goblet ever fallen in love? It wasn’t a choice.
He sat beside me on the couch. While pretending to look at my book, he told me about his meeting with the goldsmith. The man had assured him the work on the cup was progressing and would be ready after supper. Right on time.
Donovan grabbed a few books and opened one. “Find anything useful?”
“Not unless Jason develops heartburn. Then I’ll know to feed him curds and whey.”
Donovan nodded. “I guess he won’t have to worry about any spiders that sit down beside him. They’ll just be appetizers.”
“I heard that,” Jason said. He hopped further away from our couch, affronted.
I finished two more medical books, then read one on fairy origins. One theory claimed the fae folk had been angels who long ago fought on Earth in a holy war, but when God called them to come back, they delayed and were locked out of heaven. I doubted that theory was right. Queen Orlaith wasn’t at all angelic.
After a couple hours, I abandoned being ladylike and lay on the floor. It was how I always studied. Donovan joined me, and before long, everyone was sprawled in front of the fireplace.
Most of the servants couldn’t read, so we hadn’t asked anyone else to help us. Besides, it would have been hard to explain the presence of a reading frog— or one who kept sidling up to princesses and asking for a kiss.
As he hopped past me for the twentieth time, I said, “For future reference and your next girlfriend’s sake, girls don’t like it when you hit on their sisters.”
Jason paused in front of my book. “I’m not hitting on your sisters. I’m trying to break the curse.”
“I believed that the first time you kissed them, and even the second. Now it’s just a pathetic ploy for attention.”
Jason humphed and leaped over to Darby, hopping onto the pages of her book. “Come on, sweetheart, give me a kiss. I think your love could change me.”
“Just watch,” Donovan whispered. “Those will be the lyrics of his next song.”
“Actually, those were the lyrics of his last song.”