“I daresay I’ve never seen the likes of your grace or beauty in my kingdom.”

Right. He’d looked right at me over eight months ago and called me “serving wench.” It made me wonder how much of beauty is in fact wealth or fashion or mystery.

“Thank you,” I said.

He smiled and his face took on a stunning glow.

“You’ll think this is foolishness, but last night I dreamed a fairy stood beside my bed and told me that tonight I would meet the woman who was meant to be my wife.

The fairy said this woman would have to go suddenly, but she would leave behind a token so that if I searched hard enough, I might find her again.” He looked at my feet, then gazed back into my eyes. “I won’t tell you what she said the woman would leave—it’s so silly—not the type of token a woman normally gives to a man . . .” 352/431

Okay, this was all going a little fast and in a direction I didn’t want. I glanced around the room, more than ever wishing Tristan was somewhere nearby. “Your highness, I’m sure you’ll meet many women tonight. And besides, you can’t trust anything a fairy tells you. They’re constantly getting things wrong.” He laughed and pulled me closer. “Ah, you’re modest too. You’ll do nicely as my bride.” Just like that? He was deciding to marry me after one dance? “You don’t really know me at all,” I said. “What if I’m not . . . smart or punctual?” He twirled me effortlessly, then returned me to his arms. “When you’re a queen, time bends on its knee to serve you, not the other way around. As for intelligence—in my opinion wives shouldn’t be too smart. It only complicates things.”

I laughed, then realized he wasn’t joking. “But you might not like my personality . . .” He leaned closer and flashed a set of perfectly white teeth. “Trust me, your beauty compensates doubly for any deficit in your personality.” At one point—well not too long ago, really—I would have loved to hear this comment. I would have even hoped it was true and not just charming. Now it seemed silly on his lips and altogether insulting. I didn’t want 353/431

someone who had to force himself to overlook my personality.

I glanced out across the room and noticed Tristan standing on the edge of the dance floor somehow managing to look both sleek and rugged—and utterly handsome. He watched me with his arms folded. This is when I realized I was a hypocrite, because suddenly I wanted nothing more in the world than for Tristan to notice how beautiful I was and to overlook all my deficits.

He looked at me not with admiration but with frustration, as though he wasn’t happy to see me.

The dance ended, and I waited for Prince Edmond to walk me off the dance floor. Instead he took hold of my hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed my glove. “I’m afraid I must claim your dances for the rest of the night.

No other partner can tempt me to leave you.” Cinderella and Prince Charming had danced the night away, hadn’t they? Very inconvenient when I needed to warn Tristan that Margaret might be planning to poison him. “That’s so sweet,” I said casting a glance at Tristan.

“But I really need to talk to Sir Tristan for a few minutes.”

Prince Edmond was already pulling me farther away on the dance floor. “Sir Tristan can wait.” 354/431

And Sir Tristan did. As I twirled the floor with Edmond, I saw him standing on the side of the dance floor, talking to one noble and then another, but his gaze kept returning to me, impatience darkening his expression.

The song ended and the next started. Still Edmond wouldn’t hear of me leaving his arms. He told me my eyes were like brilliant jewels, my skin shone like sunlight over the snow, and my lips looked as soft as rose petals. He couldn’t have been more romantic, and I just wanted to leave.

I spotted Jane and Hunter standing at the far end of the room, looking out of place among so many guests with fancy clothes. But Hunter held Jane’s hand and she leaned in close, and both seemed oblivious to everything else going on around them.

I noticed the wizard talking to a group of men and saw Scuppers standing by the food table, gnawing on a cooked chicken leg. So much for obeying my orders to stay outside. Still, there was nothing I could do about it even if I had wanted to shoo him away. Besides, when you came right down to it, his table manners weren’t all that much worse than those of other men I’d seen in the Middle Ages.

Prince Edmond talked to me of the kingdom and the crop predictions for the season. He pointed his father out to me, a middle-aged man who, despite the streaks 355/431

of gray hair on his head, seemed to be made mostly of muscle. I wondered what the king did to stay so fit. As Edmond spoke, I nodded, smiled, and answered him halfheartedly.

My WSM and two stepsisters, as per the fairy tale, watched me sullenly from the side of the room, but showed no sign that they recognized me. It wasn’t worth taking the time to gloat. I kept wondering how I was ever going to get away from Edmond long enough to talk to Tristan.

After another song Tristan apparently grew tired of waiting for me, and disappeared from the edge of the dance floor. When I saw him next he moved past me, towing Margaret in his arms. Margaret. He’d probably have been safer if I’d left him outside.

She smiled at him, but even from a distance I could tell it was a condescending smile. Why in the world he kept smiling back at her, I didn’t know.

We danced two more songs. When I saw Tristan walk Margaret back into the crowd, I told Edmond I was thirsty and asked if he could get a drink for me. He obliged me and we walked off the dance floor. As soon as he went to look for a serving girl, I slipped through the crowd, making my way toward Tristan.

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He stood by Princess Margaret and several other nobles. They were offering their condolences that the Black Knight hadn’t responded to his challenge.

“Surely he’s heard of your success with the cyclops and dragon and is afraid to face you,” one man said.

Several agreed. A few suggested Tristan ring the bell tomorrow and see if the Black Knight responded then.

One added, “It’s a fight I won’t miss—when the Black Knight finally faces Sir Tristan.” I took hold of Tristan’s arm to get his attention. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

The men all stopped talking and bowed in my direction. Their eyes took me in and they smiled enviously at Tristan. I found the attention disconcerting, but I could tell it totally ticked off Princess Margaret. She pursed her lips together and glared at me.

Tristan said, “May I present Lady Savannah to you,” then repeated the names of the earls and barons who stood nearby. I didn’t try to remember them, I just smiled and nodded, then pulled Tristan away. As we walked toward the far corner of the room, I checked over my shoulder. No sign of Prince Edmond, but I was sure it wouldn’t be long until he tracked me down again.

Really, if Edmond insisted on being so attentive, I would flee long before midnight.

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“You decided to be Cinderella after all,” Tristan said tightly, eyeing my dress. “I thought you were through with princes.”

“I came to warn you that Margaret may be trying to poison you. I’m not positive, but she could have bought the poison from Simon and I can’t think of who else she’d want to kill.”

“Oh.” Tristan gazed back at me without concern.

“Margaret might have bought poison and she might want to use it. Well, you obviously couldn’t deliver that message without dressing in a ball gown and dancing with Prince Edmond for every song.” Tristan reached over and pushed my skirt away from my feet. “You’ve even got the glass slippers. Perfect.” I yanked my skirt out of his hands. “Did you even hear me about Princess Margaret?”