“The customers like how I decorate the shop,” he said proudly. “They say it’s charming and curious.”
I couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Your presence is novelty enough, then. In the meantime, make friends with the other shop owners. Give them a peace offering of some sort.”
“A peace offering?” William leaned forward.
I nodded. “Perhaps a helpful tip about gardening. Something to show that you are on friendly terms with them despite being their biggest competitor. Once you stop selling your cantaloupe you will be on even footing with the rest. But you’ll still have an advantage with your unique presentation.”
Make them think you are equals before flying far and beyond them.
I held back a grimace. Yet another one of Mother’s mantras.
The spark had returned to the witch’s eyes. He pulled his dirty gloves back on. “This has been enlightening indeed. Thank you, Lady Narcissa!” William made a move to shake my hand, but seemed to think better of it. “I will certainly take your advice to heart.”
On our way out, William insisted on giving us a crate of his leftover cantaloupe. A gift, he said, for helping him.
Ulysses trudged along the stone path behind Crown Prince Bennett, weighed down by his papers and the crate of melons. The steward craned his neck to look at me. “Well, handled, milady. I daresay your compromise was clever indeed—”
The crown prince halted, nearly causing Ulysses to crash into his back. “Wait here.”
Ulysses righted himself. “Er, what is it, Highness?”
“I will be back in a moment.” Without further explanation, he continued down the street, melting into the crowd.
I looked down at my skirts, frowning. I hoped he didn’t recognize my advice as the petty games Mother used to play in court.
“Wait! Your—Oh dear,” Ulysses said. We stood beneath a large painted sign that readPies by Pippin, the shop right next to William’s. A peek into the windows showed a variety of desserts, and of course, pies of all shapes and sizes. The tantalizing aroma of baked goods lingered in the frigid air.
I was half-tempted to walk inside, but my attention drew back to the steward, who was bouncing on his feet like a marionette puppet.
“Is something wrong, Ulysses?” I asked after a few minutes of his fidgeting.
His lips pulled downward. “Of course. I am in charge of keeping my eyes on the heir to the throne and heaven knows where he went. I do wish he would have taken a guard.”
The crown prince didn’t strike me as the type to dart off for foolish fancies. Whatever compelled him away must’ve been important, but it felt impertinent to ask where he went. I had the feeling the steward didn’t know either.
“Is His Highness not allowed to be alone?” I asked instead.
“He hardly ever is, milady.” Ulysses exhaled, ruffling his papers.
At that moment, Crown Prince Bennett appeared up the street. Except this time, there was an orange tabby cat slung over his shoulder like a sack. I blinked twice. Surely the light was playing tricks on me.
“Your Highness!” Ulysses exclaimed as he approached. The steward froze when the feline stared at him with pale green eyes. “This cat is...?”
“Mine.”
“Yours? B-but—”
Crown Prince Bennett patted the cat’s head. There was a wet spot on his lavender cravat, as if it had been thoroughly chewed on. “I left him here to be groomed. His name is...” He glanced up. “Pippin. Or do you not remember, Ulysses?”
“P-pippin?” Ulysses squeaked, flipping frantically through his papers with one hand and balancing the crate with another. “Er—”
“Shall I tell Father you are no longer in prime condition to do your job?”
“No! No, not at all. Of course I remember...Pippin,” the steward said.
The crown prince removed the cat from his shoulders and offered it to me. “Lady Narcissa, if you don’t mind?”
I took the creature, staring incredulously as Crown Prince Bennett turned on his heel and headed back to the carriage.
