The king held out his hand for the cap. “Let me see the creature. It couldn’t have come this far inside on its own volition, and I hardly believe one of my daughters would have taken the thing for a pet.”

He regarded us, checking for contradiction.

At his side, the queen tut-tutted the idea. “The girls are too well-bred to drag a revolting toad inside.”

“I . . . I . . .” I tried to find a way to phrase my confession without lying. I couldn’t say I’d found the frog outside and wanted him as a pet. What could I say?

The king opened the cap and stared inside, perplexed. He turned the cap inside out. It was empty. The whole room let out a collective gasp of wonder.

My gaze went to Donovan. He winked at me, and I realized I’d just seen him do another magic trick.

“How can this be?” the king asked, shaking the cap as though it would explain itself if he throttled it enough.

The queen lifted her skirt and scanned the floor. “The toad vanished?”

The princesses lifted their skirts as well, each searching for a sign of green. Kayla whimpered with worry.

“Magic,” the queen breathed out. “This is more proof of it.” She let out a sob and hugged Kayla sympathetically. “My poor, poor girls. We must do something! We are beset with strange magic.”

Madam Saxton put her hand to her mouth, as distraught as the queen. “The fairies have cursed our poor princesses. What if none of them can marry? The kingdom will be bereft of heirs.”

At the phrase, “What if none of them can marry,” several of the princesses sniffled, two broke into tears, and Clementia cried out, “Don’t say we shan’t marry, Papa. That would be too cruel.”

The king tossed Donovan’s cap onto the floor. “Stop your wailing at once. Why would fairies curse my daughters? What have I ever done to provoke the fairy realm?”

Rosamund stepped toward him, shoulders square. “Perhaps we’re cursed because of the war—because you refuse to recognize the royal families of the rebelling provinces.”

She was, I knew, trying to turn the situation into something that would benefit her prince—all of the princes. The other girls agreed with her at once, chiming in that King Rothschild should grant the defeated royal families a few concessions.

The king waved a hand to stop them. “Bah! What care the fairies of the rights of mortals?”

He had a point there. None of the fairies I’d met cared about my rights.

“And what do they mean by this magic—disappearing toads and worn slippers? If any of the fae realm wish something, let them come and speak of it.”

“Well said, Sire.” Donovan gave him a slight bow. “Still, I think it would be wise if I could study the matter. Do you know of any wizards or books that deal in magic spells?”

The king gripped his walking stick, poking it at Donovan’s cap one last time. “We’ve no wizards here. Such men only make mischief. But if you’d like, you may search the castle’s book collection. We’ve writings aplenty on every subject.” He held up a finger, emphasizing his words. “You’ve only one day left. Read quickly.”

At that the king strode out of the room, an air of authority trailing him as though it had been an actual robe.

The queen didn’t follow. In a low voice she told us, “I’ll speak to your father about the rights of the provinces.” In a burst of motherly care, she squeezed Clementia’s hand, then stroked Isolde’s cheek with trembling fingers. “My poor cursed darlings. I would switch places with you if I could. Then you could be happy, and I would endure worn slippers for the rest of my days.” She gave a little sob, kissed Darby and Catherine’s foreheads, then hurried to the door, her shoulders shuddering with grief.

Madam Saxton left the room as well, our wash basins forgotten. “Toads in the castle,” she muttered. “What will be next? Snakes I suppose. And badgers after that.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, Donovan sidled up next to me. “I have the most wicked desire right now.”

“No,” I said, “You can’t bring snakes and badgers into the castle.”

He grinned. “But it would be fun.”

The princesses gathered around us, taking mincing steps in case Jason suddenly appeared on the floor. “What has become of . . .” Clementia cast a guarded look at Donovan. “. . . of the frog?”

A muffled voice came from somewhere inside the folds of Donovan’s jerkin. “Is it safe to come out now?”

Donovan reached around to the back of his jerkin and produced a bullfrog. Jason’s throat sack pumped in and out so fast his body rocked with the motion. His eyes seemed to swivel independent of each other. “Is the whacko with the broom gone?”

“A talking frog,” Donovan said, as though he hadn’t known this fact beforehand but wasn’t surprised such things existed. “No doubt the poor fellow is the victim of a magic spell, and you’ve taken him in to help him.”

Several of the princesses nodded. “His name is Prince Jason,” Rosamund admitted. “But don’t ask us to say more than that.”

Beatrix and Kayla crowded around Donovan’s hand. “We’re so glad you’re safe,” Kayla said.

Beatrix took Jason from Donovan’s hand and stroked her finger along his back like he was a lost puppy. “How did you manage to hide him?” she asked Donovan. “We saw you capture him in your hat.”

“I did it like this.” Donovan reached into the pouch on his belt and held up a coin. With one swish of his hands, the coin disappeared. He held up his empty hand, then reached out and pulled the coin from Beatrix’s ear.

She laughed and took the coin, turning it over in her hand to examine it. “What sort of magic is this, sir?”

“That was so cool,” Penny said, coming closer. “Do it again.”

“Try it on me,” Catherine chimed.

Really, they would have made him stand there making coins appear and disappear all day, if I hadn’t dragged Donovan away.

“Go check on the goblet,” I told him. “I’ll take Jason and anyone who will help me to the library. We’ll see if we can find anything about turning frogs back into humans.”

Chapter 25

As it turned out, all the princesses wanted to help. I would’ve like to think this was because they were nice people, but they may have worried that one day one of their princes would do something to tick off Queen Orlaith and they would be in the same boat.

Everybody wants a handsome prince. Nobody wants a frog.

We took our breakfast up in the king’s library. It was a large room with gleaming wooden shelves that reached the ceiling. I hadn’t expected to see so many books, hadn’t thought King Rothschild was the literary type. Rows of books spread along the walls, worn leather covers next to colorfully painted volumes. A sliding ladder stood at the end of the shelves, tempting us to search on the dusty top shelves.

We ignored the history, etiquette, and law tomes and pulled out anything to do with medicine or magic. I took an armful, stacked them by a couch, and settled in to read. The first volume was entitled Restoratives for Common Ailments. I doubted the author counted froghood as a common ailment, but you never knew. Princes were frequently turned into animals in fairy tales.

Next to me, Clementia flipped through a book about wizards’ spells. “It seems true love is the cure for many an ailment. I don’t know why it didn’t work this time. After all, your love is true enough to bring you together each night.”

Obviously not. Or maybe the problem was more complicated. Love wasn’t curing the fairies’ trees. Could love have lost its magic power? Or perhaps true love differed from romantic love. Jason thought he loved me. He didn’t really, though. Otherwise he wouldn’t want to hide me from his friends.

I didn’t want to hide Donovan. Although, come to think of it, I did want to hide his police record. Was that just as bad? Did you have to love everything about a person to truly love them?