Page 16 of A Cake of Cherries and Charm

The troll turned and let out a squeak as Jonathan emerged from the shadows. His sword was still drawn, and there was steel wrath in his blue eyes.

“You like it?” he murmured, twisting the blade slightly so the light reflected off its silver edge. “It’s fairy-blessed. A gift from my godmother for my sixteenth birthday.” His eyes glimmered dangerously. “You can touch it if you like.”

“You don’t know what you’ve done!” The troll stuttered, stumbling back a few steps. “I’m just getting started! And I can swear to you that this wedding will not take place without repercussions!” And with that, there was another loud crack of thunder, more sparks, and the troll was gone.

As soon as the troll disappeared, Jonathan hurried around the room, searching every nook and shadow for the troll. But in the end, they both concluded that she was truly gone, and he walked back to Rosie, sheathing his sword.

“I’m beginning to see how you helped my brother defeat the first one,” he said, smiling wryly as he faced her.

“We really didn’t do much against the troll,” she explained, hurrying back to her bowl. It had risen much faster than it should have–probably an effect of the troll’s bursts of lightning that had heated the room.

“Perhaps not. But you just knocked one on the head with a rolling pin. Not many people, warrior or civilian, can boast that.”

“I don’t feel brave. I just want to go to bed,” she said, suddenly experiencing exhaustion as she’d never felt it before. “As soon as this bread is done, and I’ve cleaned this mess, I’ll be returning to my room.”

“Let me help you,” he said gently. Rosie looked up incredulously as he grabbed a rag and knelt to wipe up the flour that had fallen on the floor when Rosie had brandished the rolling pin.

She ought to refuse him, a voice whispered in her head. Crown princes ought not to be crawling about on the floor with a cleaning rag, wiping up spilled baking ingredients.

But she was too tired to argue, and after thanking him weakly, she found another rag and began to wipe up the counter as well.

“I think,” he said after a moment of silence, “that I need to make a clarification.”

She looked warily at him as he stood and dusted his hands off.

“I didn’t offer the etiquette instructor to offend you.”

Rosie stiffened, but he went on.

“I offered the help because court politics are ruthless, and I don’t want you to be unprepared.” He gave her a wry smile. “They truly are difficult to master.”

“I… Thank you,” she said, not sure what else to say. “I appreciate the… the clarification.” She paused. “Perhaps it would be helpful, if for nothing else than to let me eat my meals in peace.”

He gave her a small smile, though his brows were still lowered, before returning to his books.

An hour later, Rosie had wrapped the bread in a cheesecloth and placed it with the other loaves before turning and heading back to her room. She didn’t know what to think of the night’s events. It was rather horrifying to think that now she and her sister had yet another enemy–and one with magic at that. And yet, her last thought as her mind began to drift off to sleep was that maybe… Maybe the prince wasn’t quite so bad after all.

Chapter

Seven

Aknock sounded at the door the next morning just as Rosie finished getting dressed. She opened the door to find her sister wearing a strange expression.

“There’s a woman standing in my suite who says she’s Frederick’s cousin, and she’s brought a private dressmaker with her. I told her we had been measured two days ago for new gowns, but she won’t go away. Do you know anything about this?”

“I don’t.” Rosie shook her head. “But something happened last night that you need to know about.”

“Tell me after we figure out what to do with the stranger in my room,” Snow hissed, grabbing Rosie’s arm and dragging her down the hall to her room.

When Rosie arrived in Snow’s room, which was primarily yellow, there was indeed a young woman standing in the center of the room, directing another woman and several servants where to place the armloads of gowns they had brought with them. Three steaming plates of eggs and bread were sitting on one of the dressers, and their mother was sitting on a stool in front of the vanity, looking very confused. Before Rosie could say anything, the woman turned and nodded as soon as she saw them.

“Oh, good. You’re all here now. Martha, you may begin.”

The woman with a measuring string around her neck immediately began holding it up to Snow’s arm.

“I’m sorry,” Rosie said, looking around in bewilderment, “but… what’s going on?”

“My name is Natalie, and I’m Frederick and Jonathan’s cousin. And this is Martha. She’s not a palace seamstress, but she has made many gowns for nobility over the years. She makes all my dresses. And if we get started now, she can have new gowns for you within several days.”