My Fairly Dangerous Godmother

  By the time we got back to the castle, my lady’s maid was searching for me so she could help me dress for supper. I hadn’t realized I needed different clothes for that. Apparently in this time period the evening meal required its own attire. While she bustled me upstairs to change my clothes, a valet directed Donovan to his room for similar treatment.

  I put on a dark blue dress with gold trim crisscrossing the underskirt and sleeves. My lady’s maid’s hands flew through my hair with practiced ease, braiding my hair so it resembled a ribboned Christmas wreath. My sisters were readying themselves for dinner as well, but they didn’t say anything to me while our servants primped us into our finery. A couple sent me disapproving looks, though. They probably weren’t pleased that I’d disappeared all afternoon with Donovan. I didn’t care.

  When I walked into the dining room, he was waiting by my seat. He wore a dark green jerkin with flared shoulders that emphasized his own. Sort of matador-ish and cool. He gave me a broad smile, and his gaze travelled over me in an approving way. Perhaps changing for dinner wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  During the meal, we talked about school, swapping bad teacher stories. Donovan had me laughing in a very unprincessly manner about his chemistry teacher, who was occasionally careless in his demonstrations and at one point set his desk on fire.

  “Mr. Mertz put out the fire right away,” Donovan said, “but once the fire alarms go off, they make everyone evacuate anyway. We had to stand around outside while the firemen checked out the room for smoldering, combustible remains.”

  “At least you got out of class,” I said.

  “Yeah, and the best part was when Tyrone Wright carjacked the fire truck.”

  “Seriously?”

  “The guy never should have messed with men who wield axes. That’ll teach him to take a dare from me.”

  “You didn’t!” With the smirk on Donovan’s lips, I couldn’t tell whether he was serious or not.

  “Hey, the hood is an exciting place to live.”

  King Rothschild interrupted our conversation. “And what would you do, Prince Donovan, about the outer provinces?”

  Donovan straightened and his voice took on a formal tone. “Pardon me, Sire. What is your problem with the outer provinces?”

  The king ripped into his food with an enthusiasm that seemed out of place. “We won the war. Each province surrendered and swore fealty, yet they refuse to pay the reparations they agreed to. If you became King of Capenzia, what would you do about such defiance?”

  Donovan hesitated. “Is it defiance, Sire, or are the outer provinces just unable to pay? Certainly the war must have been a financial burden to their lands as well as yours.”

  The king knifed the slab of meat on his plate, cutting it with gusto. “Their burdens aren’t my concern. They caused the war and as such must pay for it. If I don’t enact a price for their rebellion, what’s to keep them from rebelling again?”

  Several of my sisters glanced at one another uncomfortably. A couple looked like they wanted to speak, but none did. Donovan watched them, waiting, then spoke himself. “Have you considered marriages of alliance between your daughters and the provinces’ princes?”

  The clinking of silverware immediately stopped. Half of my sisters cast disbelieving looks at Donovan, the others cast hopeful looks at our father.

  King Rothschild didn’t see any of them. He made a grumbling noise in the back of his throat, like he was choking on Donovan’s words. “Why would I give my daughters to the sons of conniving, treacherous men?” He set his goblet down with such a forceful thunk that the liquid sloshed onto the tablecloth. “Why not give them my silver, horses, and land too? That would teach my subjects not to cross me.”

  The king lifted his hand as though making an announcement. “Come fight King Rothschild. If you win, you’ll take his possessions, and if you lose he’ll give them to you.” He lowered his hand and picked up his fork. “Nonsense. I’ll give my daughters to allies not enemies.”

  The king went on for several more minutes, insisting foes needed to be crushed not coddled. If he hadn’t been so intent on his speech, he might have noticed several of his daughters let out disappointed whimpers and others stared forlornly at their plates.

  I was glad the fairy tale ended with their marriages to the princes. Sooner or later the king would have a change of heart.

  When the king finally stopped ranting about rewarding cutthroats, Donovan addressed him again. “Sire, do you want the provinces ruled by allies or enemies?”

  “I want them to obey me. That’s all.”

  Donovan should have dropped it. The princesses had never given him a reason to champion their cause, and the king had made it clear he didn’t welcome differing opinions. But Donovan didn’t drop the subject.

  “Isn’t a man more likely to want peace with you if he also calls you father? Those unions between your daughters and the neighboring princes would tie the lands together. A man as wise as you can certainly understand that.”

  The queen put her hand on the king’s arm. “Prince Donovan makes a fair point. And you know ’tis not going to be easy to make royal matches for the girls—not when you keep threatening to kill every suitor who comes to the castle.”

  The king let out a grunt. “If a prince hasn’t the wits to figure out where my daughters go each night, he would make a poor husband anyway. I’m weeding out the incompetent men. Which reminds me . . .” He turned his attention back to Donovan. “You have two nights left to solve the mystery. Don’t disappoint me. I don’t reward that behavior either.”

  * * *

  Our bedtime routine went the same as it had the night before. After our lady’s maids combed out our hair, Madam Saxton and Donovan came into the room. They sat side by side on the couch and Rosamund and Philippa passed around drinks. I wanted to watch Donovan to see if I could spot the moment he poured his cider into the housekeeper’s cup. Instead I talked to the others, doing what I could to keep their attention off him. After a half an hour, he and Madam Saxton both seemed to be asleep. My sisters and I helped each other dress.

  While Philippa laced the back of my dress, she clicked her tongue. “Today, you carried on with Prince Donovan in a manner most unbefitting a woman whose true love awaits her in the forest.”

  I opened my mouth to say that any guy who left me in the middle of a lake wasn’t my true love, but I stopped myself. My sisters might not let me go to the ball if they thought I didn’t care about Jason anymore.

  Penny fastened my stomacher to the front of my bodice. “Hey, don’t deny it. You were totally checking him out at supper.”

  “Father will be less suspicious,” I said, careful not to let any lies slip into my explanation, “if he sees me flirting with Prince Donovan. After tonight, Father would never guess I’m meeting someone else.”

  “True, perhaps.” Philippa pulled the laces tight. “However, it’s still unbecoming of one with our breeding.”

  “Really?” I asked. “You all paid close enough attention to Prince Donovan while he sparred with the fencing master.”

  “I didn’t,” Isolde said, breezing by to pick up extra pins from my dressing table.

  From the table next to mine, Darby snorted. “If you’d batted your eyelashes any harder, you would have created a breeze.”

  Isolde lifted her chin and stalked back to her own table. “You’re only vexed because Prince Donovan bid me a good day before he sparred, and he paid no heed to you whatsoever.”

  “Leave her be,” Catherine said, coming over to help with my hair. “Prince Donovan has a body like our statue of Adonis. One can’t help but appreciate art.”

  “His abs were quite a piece of art,” Darby agreed.

  Kayla weaved a yellow ribbon into her hair. “Artistically speaking, I liked the way his muscles rippled while he fought.”

  “Shh,” I said. “You’ll wake him.” He was close enough to hear this whole conversation.

  Beatrix picked up a g
reen ribbon off a nearby table and tucked it into her golden curls. “No matter his resemblance to the garden statues, I shan’t be tempted by his blue eyes, not when Frederick’s brown eyes beckon me to remain faithful.”

  Mathilda let out a dreamy sigh. “Prince Donovan does have tempting blue eyes, does he not?”

  “Wicked blue eyes,” Elizabeth said.

  Catherine and Penny giggled at the description. No one seemed to care about being too loud, and my annoyance increased with each of my sisters’ comments. They were talking about Donovan like he was a high calorie dessert, not a person.

  “He stuck up for you at supper,” I reminded them.

  When all eyes turned on me, I realized I shouldn’t have spoken. My sisters didn’t know that Donovan had followed us last night—that he knew we were meeting with the princes from the conquered provinces.

  “Stuck up for us at supper?” Philippa repeated. She finished with my laces and checked her hair in the mirror. “Really, Sadie. Where did you learn these odd turns of speech?”

  “What I meant is Prince Donovan thinks you should be able to marry whoever you want. You should be nice to him. He’s . . .” I couldn’t think of the right word and my sentence drifted off into happy contemplation. My expression must have said what I didn’t.

  Catherine momentarily stopped rolling my hair to study my face. “Heavens, you look positively smitten.”

  Rosamund was taming the curls by her face to hang as ringlets. “Perhaps Prince Donovan cast a magic spell on her.”

  Beside her, Mathilda giggled. “We had better take her to Prince Jason forthwith. True love’s kiss will break the spell.”

  Not likely. And not going to happen. Even the mention of Jason’s name made me inwardly groan. I would have to spend all night talking and dancing with him.

  After we finished dressing, Rosamund opened up the secret door, and Philippa and Clementia passed out the lanterns. I’d lost my black cloak in the lake, so I had to take one from the closet, a brown one with a coarser weave.

  With only a glance in Donovan’s direction, I followed the others through the door and onto the landing. The white marble steps spread downward, as smooth as a keyboard, with each of our footsteps tapping out a rhythm. Above us, stars pricked the black night, glowing strong and bright. The air was still with a scent of leaves drifting upward. How did anyone ever get used to magic places?

  Eleven lantern lights dipped down below me. I trailed them, listening for Donovan. I didn’t hear him. I hung back, walking slower so he could catch up with me.

  After a few moments I heard his voice in my ear, teasing. “Have I cast a spell on you, Princess Sadie?”

  “You do know magic. I’ve seen you make coins disappear.”

  He let out a chuckle. I liked the sound of it, rich and secret. “Do girls always talk about guys that way?”

  “Not always. Sometimes we talk about the fictional characters we wish guys were like.”

  “Do you think my blue eyes are wicked?”

  “No, although you do have a wicked grin.”

  “We’ll have to find that sculpture of Adonis in the garden. I want to see if it really looks like me.”

  I laughed and felt light and happy. I might have to spend the night dancing with Jason, but at least I could spend the day with Donovan.

  When we came to the forest, Donovan left the path. The occasional eruption of owls, hooting and circling over the trees, let me know he was gathering twigs from the silver, gold, and diamond trees. He’d told me earlier he would get some for me too. It was one more perk of working with a guy who owned an invisibility cloak.

  Finally the trees thinned revealing the lake. Twelve princes waited by their boats. Well, Jason was sort of waiting. He stood by a neighboring boat, talking to that prince.

  My sisters hung their lanterns on the posts and happily made their way to their boyfriends. I hung my lantern last of all and grudgingly headed toward Jason. Just seeing him made a surge of hot anger flash through me. My footsteps became quicker, hard against the ground.

  Jason saw me and headed back to his boat, reaching it the same time I did. Donovan arrived before either of us. I saw the boat tilt slightly, indicating he’d climbed inside.

  The other princes took my sisters’ hands and helped them into the boats. Jason either didn’t see this custom or didn’t care about it. Instead of getting into the boat, I stood in front of him, pinning him with a glare. “You know, I nearly drowned last night.” I picked up a handful of my skirt and held it out to him as evidence. “This thing is like a lead suit with ribbons.”

  Jason walked closer, glanced around, and whispered, “Do you have a cell phone?”

  “No. And you wouldn’t get coverage here anyway.”

  His gaze travelled to the other boats. “Do any of the other girls have phones?”

  I let go of my skirt. “Let’s get back to the fact that I almost drowned last night—what kind of guy rows away and leaves someone in a freezing lake in the dark?”

  Jason rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t have drowned. Someone from the show would have helped you if you’d been in real trouble.”

  Unbelievable. Jason didn’t even feel bad. I planted my hands on my hips. “I think the correct thing to say at this point is, ‘I’m sorry. Really, really sorry.’”

  “I need a cell phone.” His expression was devoid of its usual charm. A look of hard frustration was there instead. “I’ve got to get out of here. I don’t care what my manager agreed to. I don’t care what the ratings for this show will be. I’m done with cold drafty rooms and stinking toilets. I’m especially done with the crazed guy who thinks I should practice fencing for two hours a day.”

  There was no point waiting for an apology from him. It wasn’t going to happen. I pushed by Jason and lifted my skirts to climb into the boat. I couldn’t see past the material to tell where the edge of the boat was. My pride kept me from asking Jason for help. I didn’t want to ask him for anything.

  He followed me, pointing his finger at the ground to emphasize his words. “I will fire my manager if he doesn’t have me on a plane to Los Angeles first thing in the morning. You tell him that.”

  Jason may have been immune to guilt, but I wasn’t. It knocked around inside of me, reminding me it was my fault he was here. My wish had plucked him away from his life, his success, from everything he’d worked so hard for. He didn’t even know all of this was real.

  “We’ll get home,” I reassured him. “The castle goldsmith is making a replica of the goblet. Tomorrow night I’ll switch it for hers. Then we’ll be able to leave.”

  At the edge of the boat, I shifted my skirt from one hand to the other, peering around the mountain of material so I knew where to put my foot. It didn’t help. My feet could have changed into live raccoons and I wouldn’t have been able to tell. Why did I have to be here with Jason, a guy who couldn’t notice I needed help?

  It occurred to me that Donovan was here too, and he noticed everything. With a sort of curious hope, I held my hand out over the boat edge. He took hold of it and helped pull me inside.

  He really was so sweet.

  If Jason saw this odd maneuver, he didn’t mention it. He tilted his head backward in aggravation. “Why wait until tomorrow? Why not just take the goblet tonight?”

  “Shh.” I glanced around to see if anyone heard him. The other boats were already pushing off, the princes busily chatting with my sisters. “If she doesn’t know her goblet is missing, we’ll have a better chance of getting away with the theft. Queen Orlaith is dangerous.”

  Jason put his hands on the side of the boat, leaning over it to glare at me. “You think she’s dangerous? I’ll tell you who’s dangerous: my lawyers. And if I don’t get a cell phone soon, this place will be raining subpoenas.”

  He said other things, but I couldn’t understand them. By that point, Jason had put his back against the ship and was pushing the boat into the water. Once the boat edged into the lake, He jumped i
nside and picked up the oars.

  One of the princes called, “You’ll be last again tonight!”

  Jason yelled back, “That’s because I started later than the rest of you! Open your eyes!” He said a few more things—insults that made me think he spent way too much time thinking about rear ends and their functions.

  “This isn’t a race,” I told him. “It doesn’t matter if we’re last.”

  Jason pulled hard on the oars, leaning into the motion. “It always matters if you’re last. I work too hard to be a loser.”

  “So if you lose at something, it means you didn’t work hard?”

  “Not hard enough.”

  A cold prickle of irritation stiffened my spine. And this time, I wasn’t keeping quiet. “Just like you, I practice music for hours every day. I play the piano or the guitar or work on my voice lessons. I still lost on your stupid TV show. Don’t tell me only winners work hard.”

  Jason’s eyes widened with surprise. Apparently it had never occurred to him that his thoughts about losers would offend someone who had bombed America’s Top Talent.

  He yanked at the oars. “I’m sure you’ll get better someday.” It was a pathetic attempt at consolation. “Or you’ll find something else you’re good at.” He shrugged. “You’re pretty. You could do something with that.”

  I held up my hands. “You don’t need to offer suggestions. I stopped caring what you thought yesterday.”

  “You—” His jaw went a slack. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

  “If I ever do, I’m sure you’ll be the first to remind me.”

  Jason gripped the oars harder, dipping them into the black water with a hurried splash. “I could make you or break you in the music business.”

  Donovan’s voice came close to my ear. “Do you want me to push him overboard?”

  “Naw,” I whispered back. “Then one of us would have to row.”

  I hadn’t whispered quietly enough. Jason cocked his head. “One of you? Who are you talking to?”

  “No one—ouch!” I slapped my hand to my nose. I’d lied without thinking about it. “I mean, I’m talking to my invisible friend.”