After a long moment, my laughter turns to hiccups and I wipe my eyes and look up at the assembled crowd. Somehow, even more people have collected outside, no doubt drawn by my hyena-like hooting. Everyone is looking at me with the kind, concerned expression of a distant relative hearing that some family member they’ve never met has just died. I hiccup again, swallow, and get to my feet.
“Well,” I say, “I suppose I’m stuck here for a while. Honeyrose…”
I watch her school her expression, her silent fury ebbing away as she starts to think about what to do next.
“I suppose there’s no help for it,” she says, her voice neutral, composed. “I’ll have your trunks brought over. I presume—I hope—there’re living quarters around here somewhere?”
“At the back,” someone says. “I think.”
“That’s what the old lady said,” I add.
“Mrs. Gooch,” someone supplies.
“Mrs. Gooch,” I echo.
“Wonderful news. I don’t suppose I can ask everyone to clear out for a few minutes, to allow Her Royal Highness some time to compose herself? And you”—she points to the person who mentioned the spell sounder—“might you bring us something to eat? And drink.” She pauses. “Wine if you have it. Cider if not. Beer if you must.”
With a great deal of shuffling and throat-clearing, the collected dignitaries and onlookers of Little Pepperidge leave the crowded little shop. Honey watches them go, then shuts the door with a decided air of misery. We stare at each other.
“I’m sorry—” I begin, but she holds up a hand.
“Don’t,” she says, looking suddenly very tired.
“Honey,” I begin again, but then I’m not sure what to say and my words die in my throat. She looks around for a moment.
“We’ll get you situated here for the time being, I suppose. Once you’re in good shape…I guess I’ll have to head back to the palace, inform your parents. I’ll be lucky if they don’t call for my head on the spot.”
“Oh, Honey, no,” I say, appalled. “It wasn’t your fault. No one expects an ancient bookstore owner to curse someone—”
“Tandy,” she says tiredly, and I know she means it; sheneveruses my real name, and certainly not my nickname. “Iexpect it. Or, I’mmeantto expect it. That’s literally my job.”
“Surely not,” I say, surprised. “You’re the royal secretary. And my friend, though that’s not your job. Just, you know, nice.”
“I’m meant to protect you,” she says. “That’smy job. I do so by anticipating…well, everything. I should have anticipated this. Your love of books is legendary. You are known to patronize local bookstores everywhere you go. I’ve intercepted fifteen cursed books over the years if I’ve intercepted one—”
“You have?” This is news to me.
“—and yet, here we are, stuck in a bookshop in the absolute elbow of nowhere, because I didn’t think some old woman running a bookshop in a town you were scheduled to visit—you, a royal princess known to love books and visit bookshops—mightcurse you. So yes, I’ll be lucky if they don’t send for the headsman the moment I tell them.”
“You mean to say…” I pause, for the possibility seems too remote to even consider. “This is some sort of plot? Against…my parents, or my sister, or me?” I was pretty sure the old lady hadn’t even known who I was.
“We must be prepared for any contingency,” Honey says, miserably. “This could be some sort of kidnapping or ransom situation. We’ll have to figure out who that woman is, or was, and who she’s connected to, and what they want, while also trying to break the curseandfiguring out some way to keep you safe while it’s still in play. I…I have a lot to think about.”
“Honey, let me write a letter to my parents—to tell them it was my fault; I stupidly took that key without thinking about curses or ransom or anything. I thought she was sick; I was just trying to…be nice.”
“That’s just the problem, Tandy,” Honey says, very seriously. “You’re too nice. You let everyone run roughshod over you.”
“I…do not,” I say, surprised.
“Why are you the only traveling royal?”
“Because…it’s my duty,” I say. “My sister is prince of the realm. She has to learn how to run the country. Manage ministers. Diplomatize…diplomats. You know. She’ll be queen someday.”
“And no one else, not a single other member of your family, can go cut ribbons or kiss babies?” she presses.
I shake my head. No one has ever questioned my duties like this.I’venever questioned my duties like this. “It’s my job,” I say, softly.
She scowls and looks away. “It’s because you won’t say no.”
