You’ve changed and I don’t like it,” said the queen on the other side of the closed door. Her voice was ill-tempered and angry, which was unusual for her. Grassina had been about to knock, but she dropped her hand and hesitated, torn between wanting to hear what her mother said next and knowing how upset the queen would be if she knew that someone was eavesdropping.
“I don’t know what you mean,” said King Aldrid, sounding puzzled.
“You were so attentive when we first met. Don’t you remember singing love songs outside my window at night until my father threatened to have you dragged off to the dungeon? You gave me so many gifts that I didn’t know what to do with them all. You even begged me for a lock of my hair to keep by your heart. After we were married, you took me to tournaments and on that grand tour. We were so happy together, and you promised that it would never end.”
“I remember,” he said. “We were young then and didn’t have the responsibilities that we have now.”
“Don’t talk to me about responsibilities! I know exactly what’s expected of me by you and everyone else in this kingdom. All I’m asking for is a little romance . . . some sign that you still love and cherish me and that I’m still important to you and not just because of what I do for our kingdom. I want you to be the man you used to be. I want to feel the way I used to feel.”
“I didn’t know you weren’t happy,” said King Aldrid. “You’ve never said anything before. What brought this on?”
“Nothing, really. I was talking to Chartreuse and I remembered how it once was, that’s all. She’s so bright-eyed and certain of her future, like I was at her age. I suppose I just need to know . . . Are you still the Aldrid I married? Do you still love me the way you once did?”
“Of course I do!” the king said, beginning to sound irritated.
“You certainly never show it!” The queen’s voice was louder, as if she were coming closer. Grassina stepped back a pace, not wanting to be caught listening.
“You have to tell me what you want. I can’t read your mind!” said the king.
“That much is obvious!” The queen had almost reached the door. “You never even tell me that you love me anymore.”
“I shouldn’t have to say it.”
“Perhaps not, but it would be nice if you did it without having to.”
Grassina’s heart was pounding when she darted down the corridor and slipped behind a wall hanging that covered a small, drafty alcove. Peeking out from behind the hanging, she searched her mother’s face as the queen passed by and was dismayed to see tears streaking her cheeks. As a child, hearing her parents argue had frightened Grassina, perhaps because they did it so rarely. It upset her even now, although she couldn’t have explained why. Talking to someone about it might help, but it had to be someone who felt the same way she did. Only one name came to mind.
Grassina often forgot just how big the castle was until she had to find someone. She looked for Chartreuse in her chamber, but it was empty. Even her sister’s new kitten was gone. Chartreuse wasn’t in the Great Hall either, nor their mother’s chamber, nor any other room where she might usually be found. To her surprise, she finally found her in the kitchen.
A few years before, Grassina had developed a love for cooking and had persuaded the cooks to give her lessons. She still visited the kitchen often to try her hand at new dishes, but as far as she knew, her older sister had never set foot in the kitchen. Grassina could tell from the sour expressions on the cooks’ faces that they weren’t pleased about Chartreuse’s current visit.
Chartreuse was standing at the long table where she’d shoved aside a mound of vegetables, leaving a cleared space for her to work. A book, a bowl of flour, a saltcellar, a lump of butter, and a dozen apples lay on the table in front of her. An orange-striped kitten sat on the table at Chartreuse’s elbow, lapping a bowl of milk. Supper was hours away, but roasts were already turning on the spit, making Grassina’s mouth water from the aroma of the sizzling juices. She was wondering if the cook might give her something to tide her over when Chartreuse began to read aloud from the book.
Pour the flour and the salt.
Drop in a bit of lard.
Mix it till it’s nice and smooth.
Add water—it’s not hard.
Although Grassina was watching carefully, nothing seemed to be happening. “A cooking spell,” she murmured. “I wonder where she found that.”
Roll it flat and roll it wide.
Cut squares with a blade.
Lay the apple slices there.
Don’t stop—it’s nearly made.
The ingredients hadn’t budged from the table. “It’s not working,” said Grassina. “Why are you going on with the spell if it’s not doing what it’s supposed to? And why are you wasting your time on a cooking spell in the first place? You can cook without magic. Now if I were trying to do magic, I’d do something big that could make a real difference that I couldn’t make any other way.”
Chartreuse looked up from the table to glare at her sister. “If I wanted your opinion, I’d ask for it. Go away. I’m busy.”
“But I need to talk to you,” Grassina said, glancing at the cooks and their score of assistants. Although none were looking in the sisters’ direction, they were all working so quietly that she was sure they were listening. “It’s about our parents,” she told Chartreuse in a fierce whisper.
“Didn’t this afternoon’s conversation sink in at all?” asked Chartreuse. “I don’t want you anywhere near me when I’m doing my magic!” Picking up the book, she pointedly turned her back on her sister.
Chartreuse’s kitten licked its paw, then used it to wipe its face. Cat hairs floated in a sunbeam coming through one of the windows set high in the wall. Grassina crinkled her nose when some of the hairs drifted into the bowl of flour. She picked up the kitten to set it on the floor, and it mewed, earning her a nasty look from Chartreuse.
“I have to talk to you,” said Grassina. “This is important. They’ve been fighting.”
Chartreuse slammed the book on the table and spun around. “So you think that what I’m doing isn’t important? Get out of here and leave me alone! And that goes for my kitten, too. I never said you could touch it.” Giving her sister a nasty look, she snatched the kitten off the floor and set it on the table. The kitten backed away, bumping into the bowl of flour. The bowl overturned and the flour splashed out, coating the kitten from head to toe. Howling, the kitten jumped to the floor and dashed around the kitchen, leaving a white, powdery trail.
A scullery maid was carrying a bucket of water when the kitten ran under her feet, tripping her. The bucket went flying, the water gushing over the spitted roasts, drenching them and extinguishing the fire. The head cook roared and, grabbing a broom, flailed at the kitten. Terrified, the kitten tore out of the kitchen and down the corridor toward the Great Hall. Chartreuse snatched up her book and ran after her pet. Grassina grabbed some apples and was only a few paces behind.
Although most of King Aldrid’s hounds had gone outside to pester the stable boys, one hound had stayed behind to take a nap by the fireplace. Woken by the stillyowling kitten, the hound scrambled to its feet and took off after the dusty white ball of fluff. Bigger and faster than the kitten, the hound would have caught it if, just as its jaws were about to close, the flour puffing off the warm, furry body hadn’t tickled the hound’s nose. The hound sneezed, giving the kitten enough time to launch itself onto one of Queen Olivene’s prized tapestries decorating the closest wall. Its needlelike claws dug into the woven fabric as the kitten climbed until it was too high for the hound or anyone else to reach. This didn’t discourage the hound, who leaped at the tapestry, barking hysterically. Dragged down by the weight of the hound, the tapestry tore at the top where it was fastened to the wall and began to sag.
Chartreuse glanced at Grassina. “Now see what you’ve done!”
“You’re blaming me?” said Grassina. “It’s your kitten!”
“We were fine until you came in!”
The hound jumped again, scrabbling at the tapestry with its paws.
“I’ll get the hound,” said Grassina. “You get your kitten.”
Grassina reached for the hound’s collar, but the animal snapped at her when she came close. She looked to see if her sister was having any better luck. Chartreuse was thumbing through her book, licking her finger before she turned each page.
Grassina was still trying to decide how to approach the hound when Chartreuse began to read a spell for getting things down from high places using a loud, decisive voice. Grassina shook her head. “I can’t believe she’s trying magic now!” she muttered.
While Chartreuse concentrated on the spell, Grassina looked around for something she could use to scare off the hound. She was about to go back to the kitchen when she remembered the apples. “This should do it,” she said, hefting one in her hand.
The apple hit the hound in the ribs, surprising it so that it took off yelping with its tail between its legs. When the kitten still didn’t come down, Grassina threw another so that it hit the tapestry directly above the kitten’s head. Startled, the kitten pulled its claws free and fell. Chartreuse took her eyes from her book just as the kitten landed in Grassina’s arms.
“Did you see that?” Chartreuse asked, her voice a high squeak. “Did you see what I just did? My magic finally worked! I told you today was my day!”
Grassina tried to keep a straight face, but the twitching of her lips almost betrayed her. “Yes, indeed. The way that cat came down was pure magic. Congratulations, Chartreuse. I didn’t know you had it in you!”
“But I did!” said Chartreuse. Clapping her hands, she twirled on her toes and did a little jig. “I did it! I did it! I have to go tell Mother right away.”
The pages sitting at a nearby table were trying hard not to laugh, but when one snorted with the effort, they all broke up, guffawing and slapping the table. Princes Torrance and Pietro had just come into the room when Chartreuse noticed them. She waved and smiled again before turning back to the pages. Her smile evaporated as she said, “Why are you laughing? Did I say something funny?” Her eyes narrowed when they grinned back at her. “I didn’t do it, did I? It was something you did, wasn’t it?” She turned to glare at Grassina accusingly.
Grassina nodded, then giggled in spite of herself. “Maybe today wasn’t really your day after all.”
“You are so immature,” Chartreuse said, looking from Grassina to the still-laughing pages.
“At least I know my limitations,” Grassina murmured as her sister stalked off.