“I know!” A tiny hedgehog was taking a nap in my underwear drawer, so I delicately removed it and handed it over to her.
“—then remember you don’t have to put up with any crap from him,” she continued without pause as she slipped the hedgehog into her hair, where it joined a family of wriggling dormice. Animals never poop in her hair, by the way, no matter how many of them are living there. They reserve that for other places. Like my underwear drawer. “You can break whatever his curse is without being a doormat,” she said. “Always stand up for yourself.”
I sat down heavily on the bed. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“What are you worried about, then?” Jonquil asked. “Spinning wheels? Flax stalks? Getting stuck to a goose? If you do your best not to touch anything suspicious—”
“Touch everything suspicious!” Gnoflwhogir urged, baring a grin full of needle-sharp teeth. “Kill anyone who tries to stop you!” Her fingers reached for the great claymore she usually kept strapped to her back, but she hadn’t brought the sword to my bedroom. Her hand dropped, brushing fondly across her necklace of left ears instead. They looked very much like dried apricots. “Stab yourself with every spindle,” she advised me. “Put your hand on every goose. Be bold, be bold!”
“But not too bold,” Jonquil cautioned, frowning.
Lest that your heart’s blood should run cold,I mentally recited—the traditional instruction given to women who might be about to marry murderous villains. “For goodness’ sake, Jonquil, I’m aware of the common difficulties new brides face.” Why was she reminding me of poems I already knew by heart? Why was she warning me about overly adhesive geese? My stepmother had given me the same practical education as my sisters. “I know what to do if my husband-to-be is invisible, or quadrupedal, or has a rotting pile of maidens’ corpses in his castle.”
“None of that will happen in Tailliz, hen,” Liam said, speaking for the first time. He came from Ecossia, and a trace of his homeland’s accent lingered in his gently rolledr’s and the soft glottal stops of his finalt’s. “Well, maybe the pile of bodies, but I doubt it. Tailliz hasn’t any magic to speak of. Not a single sorcerer’s been born there in over a century.” He tucked another dress into the carved wooden chest. The ferret lurking inside busily folded it up. “There’s a talking lion who’s counseled the royal family for generations, and I’ve heard rumors about odd things in the woods. But no more than that.”
“Odd things in the woods?” I asked.
He shrugged. “There’s been talk of animals behaving strangely. And some that aren’t natural. Misshapen. At least,there was talk of it a few years ago. I’ve not been out that way in a while.”
Calla looked concerned at the thought of unnatural animals. I was concerned myself, although not for the same reasons. I’d been on enough quests to know that unreliable, offhand rumors can turn out to be of crucial importance.
Liam was the best informed of any of us about the western kingdoms. Ecossia is an island country not far across the straits from Tailliz. It’s a wild land of hills and bogs, best known for strange enchantments, fierce warriors, and fluffy sheep. He had the characteristic Ecossic look to him—red-orange hair, a strong chin, and freckles, along with paler skin than anyone of Skallan heritage—but he was neither an enchanter nor a warrior. Nor was he a sheep, obviously.
He was also not, I suspected, the minor Ecossic prince he’d claimed to be when he came seeking Calla’s hand. Based on his knowledge of fabric and couture, my best guess was that he’d been a tailor. He made my sister happy, though, and that was what mattered. Besides, his expertise ensured there was a judicious eye on the dresses going into my trousseau.
Liam handed a beribboned blue ball gown to a trio of snakes, who grabbed it with their mouths and dragged it awkwardly across the floor to the chest. “So what are you worried about, then?” he asked.
I wandered over to the window and placed my hands on the sill, squinting at the dying daylight. Surprisingly, the room behind me went quiet, the mice and hamsters silencing their squeaks and the flutter of wings dying down as the birds settled themselves on curtain rods or bedposts.
They were probably expecting me to express my feelings by bursting into song, as Calla sometimes did. Which meant they were going to be sorely disappointed. I have yet to improvise a stirring ballad on a moment’s notice.
“What if I go all the way there and I don’t like him?” I said.“Or what if he doesn’t like me? What if I can’t stand living in Tailliz and miss being here every single minute for the rest of my life?”
The sun was setting behind the crags of the western range, turning the sky pink and gold. The long, low clouds were tinged with the same colors. I had seen this same view, or one very much like it, nearly every night I was home since I’d moved to the palace with my father years ago. Even when I’d been far away—whether out traveling or locked in a lonely tower—this had always been what I’d returned to when the quest was over or the punishment was done. The mountain range, seen through a bell-shaped window set in the smooth, dark wall of a chamber carved by giants. The place where I lived, just across the hall from my sisters.
My breath was knocked out of me in a single, involuntary cry as Jonquil and Calla simultaneously embraced me on both sides.
“No matter what happens, you can come here to visit for as long as you want,” Jonquil said. “And we’ll go out there. All the time. I’ll steal the seven-league boots if I have to.”
“And if you don’t like him,” Calla added, “or if he’s such an oaf that he doesn’t like you, then tell him he can take his crown and shove it.”
“Yes!” Gnoflwhogir shouted from the floor, one pointed ear twitching excitedly. “Straight up his ass! Force it in yourself if he refuses!”
I grinned once I got my breath back. “I doubt the queen would approve of that.”
“You’ve said no to her before.” Calla wasn’t grinning. She looked as serious as I’d ever seen her. My own smile slipped off my face. “You’re practically the only one who ever has.”
“And I got locked up for my trouble.” I shook my head. “She won’t let me get away with something like that again.”
“It might not turn out badly,” Calla said. “She’s not asheartless as she wants everyone to believe. You never seem to realize that.”
Jonquil made a noise of assent. “I’ve always thought it’s how she keeps herself on the throne. She tries to be so terrifying that no one will dare to challenge her.”
I’d heard them make this argument before. To me, it seemed like a distinction without a difference. “So you’re saying she isn’t completely merciless. She just acts completely merciless at all times.”
“She doesn’t, though. Not always,” Calla said. “You were in the tower, but here you are now, walking free. Unpoisoned, unensorcelled, and unharmed. Maybe you could say no again, if you wanted to. If you needed to.”
“Could I?” I asked. “Without an even worse result? Are you certain of that?”
