“Do they travel with, like, infinite rugs?”
“What do theysleepon?”
“Ladies,” I say, a little sternly. “Their customs are not our own, but they deserve our respect.”
Someone coughs, and the two sober up a little.
“You have to admit it was alotof work, just to have athirteen-year-old boykiss your cheek for like a fraction of a heartbeat,” Sasha says.
“Honestly,” I say, “I’m more worried about what his mother is going to tellmymother.” I can trust Honey to give the rosiest picture of the bookshop and my situation to my family, but not…not an Astebani. Certainly not the queen of Astebal, not in a letter to the queen of the Widdenmar. I sigh.
“Are they all called…‘Asteban’?” Amaritha asks.
“The royal family all share honorary names that sound very similar to our ears,” I say. “There are diphthongs in their language that we have trouble pronouncing, but which they differentiate easily.”
“So that one isn’t actually called Asteban? Your prince, I mean?”
“Astebaen,” I correct. I can only barely do his diphthong justice. “And he is. He had a different name before he reached his majority, and then he renounced it for the royal name, by which he will always now be known.”
“That’s actually really interesting,” Amaritha says. “Like, culturally.”
“So,” Bash says, clearing his throat. “You’ve had your seven kisses. What happens next?”
“Now we wait for Honey to find a sorcerer,” I say, and pause. It’s a race against time now. “Or for my parents to arrive.”
“With the frogs,” Bash adds.
“What frogs?” Sasha says, brows knitting in confusion.
“The wagonful of enchanted frogs for kissing, naturally,” Bash says. “Since the princes didn’t work out. I’ve got my heart set on a whole menagerie of enchanted animals making their way up here.”
“Ew,” Amaritha says.
Uninspired by their reactions, and more worried about the future than I perhaps ought to be—or maybe less than I should—I send everyone away and go to bed.
Chapter 40
I wake with the dawn, golden light spilling into my box bed, and stare at the painted ceiling, thinking. I need to set the bookstore to rights, now that the seventh and final prince has come and gone, but there’s something I’ve been planning for a while—since Calla’s kiss—and now the final piece has fallen into place. I know I can expect Sasha to show up about a few hours after sunrise, as it’s not a school day, for some reason known only to the town council, so I have to set everything up by then. I run up to the third floor and do as much Astebani formal cleaning as I can by myself, lay down the rugs they left behind, and then run back downstairs to clean myself off. I dress carefully and send the bluecaps up to the third floor, and then wait by the door.
The princes arrive—mercifully without the trumpeters this time. Astebaen explains that his parents allowed him to come in the company of the other princes, and are spending the morning in prayer and seclusion. I curtsy and thank each of them. Threekiss my knuckles in response. Calla winks at me. I direct them all upstairs to wait.
Sasha arrives just after the temple bells toll the hour.
“You’re all dressed up,” she remarks, taking in my gown. I’m wearing one of Mrs. Gooch’s very old-fashioned gowns, one which is old enough that its age alone gives it the air of formality.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” I say.
“Oohhh…kay,” she says.
“But you have to promise to ask Amaritha to the end-of-year ball before I give it to you.”
Sasha blushes. “I mean, we haven’t really talked about it.”
“No surprise unless you agree,” I say, affecting sternness.
“What if she says no?”
“Has she said no to anything yet?” I point out.
