“Tandy,” Sasha gasps, and I look up to see that she’s gone as pale as a dracone can go. I cough and cast the fastest stabilizing spell I can remember on the bookcase she’s holding up. “You can let go now,” I say. She takes a careful step back, releasing the bookcase cautiously, but it stays upright. I turn and do the same for the one that fell on me, and Driz and Yenny release it carefully. It doesn’t even wobble, a fact I’d ordinarily be proud of.
Silence falls over the room. I should say something, but I’mstill trying to wrap my head around the fact that a prince kissed me (without breaking the curse, naturally), and then a bookcase collapsed on me, and now I’m standing in a dust-filled, books-strewn passage, being stared at by three princes, at least seventeen townsfolk, my teenaged shop assistant, and being held by—
“Oh, cripes,” I gasp, and step out of Bash’s arms. I oughtn’t be held by anyone, really; it’s inappropriate for a single royal when not dancing. “Oh, cripes” may indeed not be the most inspiring words, but I’m still gathering my wits. That said, I immediately feel a little colder.
“What happened?” I add, at a safe distance from everyone.
“That prince—” Sasha begins.
“That demented blowhard—” Bash says at the same time.
“My darling—” Ternis cries out, sounding sincerely agonized.
I hold up a hand. I don’t trust a single person here to say anything remotely sensible. “You”—I point at a townsperson (someone, I note, who has never once bought anything from me, despite having seen at least two of my kisses in person)—“did you see what happened?”
“Yes, your, uh,” the townsperson, a middle-aged elf, squeaks. She blushes, her blue-gray cheeks turning an appealing shade of azure. “Your, um, swain”—she gestures in Ternis’s direction—“pulled you toward him and bent you over his arm and kissed you.”
Iknewthat bit. I school myself in patience. “And?” I prompt.
“If he hadn’t been so intent on making an absoluteassof himself and just tried to kiss younormally,” Bash says, sounding extremely aggrieved, “it wouldn’t have happened. But he pushed you into the bookcase.”
“And then the bookcase wobbled and sort of overbalancedand fell forward, and you were right under it,” Sasha says, sounding thrilled. I suppose, for her, it’s mostly just an exciting day on the job. That is, since nobody got squashed to death.
“Whydidn’tI get squashed to death?” I say, suddenly annoyed with everyone. I should, by rights, have at least broken my back.
“The bookcase toppled forward and hit the one across from it,” Bash says. He, at least, doesn’t sound delighted. He makes a triangle shape with his two hands. “So it didn’t collapse on you. Just dumped eight hundred pounds of books on you.” He shoots another furious look at Ternis. “Yourswainsaw what was happening and stepped out of the way.”
I feel all my royal training bubbling to the surface. I want nothing so much as to shoo everyone away and have a good yell, and then find a spell to ease the aches of recent percussive injuries, butsomeone’sgot to take control of this mess.
“Just as well,” I say, trying to inject a bit of airy unconcern into my voice. “Otherwise we’d both have been trapped. A diplomatic nightmare, to be sure.”
“He could have pulled you away with him,” Sasha points out, because no teenager has ever met with a polite fabrication she didn’t feel the immediate urge to dismantle. So much for diplomacy. Beside me, Bash emits some sort of noise that, under different circumstances, I might describe as a growl.
“Well, no harm done,” I say lightly. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me—”
“But the curse,” Ternis says, his voice a little high-pitched.
Of course. The entire reason he kissed me in the first place. “It’s not broken; I’d have felt it,” I say, as kindly as I can manage. I still don’t know that for sure, but it’s as safe an assumption as any. Ternis opens his mouth to protest, and I sigh. “Look, I’llshow you,” I say, stepping over the books strewn about the floor and walking to the still-open door where, oh joy, the other half of the town appears to be collected. They’re chattering excitedly; they fall silent as I approach. I press my hand against the invisible barrier. It is, of course, unaltered.
“See? Can’t leave. The curse is alive and well. Now, if you wouldn’t all mind…”
It seems I’ve finally reached the limits of my ability to be hospitable. I suddenly want everyone gone.
“We’re closed!” Sasha hollers, from somewhere behind me. I turn and march back into the bookshop as disappointed townsfolk stream out the door around me. After a few moments, only the princes, Sasha, Bash, and I are left. Ternis still looks utterly shell-shocked. Even Driz appears to have lost his normal bonhomie. Bash is glowering at the floor. Sasha is trying to conceal a smile.
“Driz,” I say, “will you take Ternis to the Inn of the Howevermany Princes and buy him a drink?”
“Of course,” he murmurs, at a totally normal volume.
“Ternis,” I say, since someone must say something, and he doesn’t appear to have recovered his voice yet. “You weren’t going to break the curse anyway. It’s my own fault for de-spelling those damned bookcases during open hours without taking any precautions. Anyone could have knocked one over.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says, sounding very small. My irritation with him vanishes; I don’t know Ternis well, but like Driz, he’s never struck me as anything other than a loud, sincere person with a penchant for showboating.
“Next time you kiss someone,” I say, a little severely, “make sure they’re expecting it. Maybe less dipping, too.”
He nods, and after a few quiet words with Driz, he and Yenny leave.
I’m still standing in the narrow passageway between the door to the shop and my desk. I put my hands on my hips and survey the damage. I’d been planning on getting rid of some of the bookcases here anyway; they had been making the passageway feel very crowded, and I’ve spent three months worrying they were going to collapse on a customer. I suddenly feel very tired.
