Ellie let go of Omar’s hand, rushed to the side of the deck, climbed over, and jumped to the ground three feet below, heedless of her rustling gown. From there she dashed to the service door, opened it with a wave of her hand, and began to work her way around the outside of the room toward the buffet.
A frightful sight met her eyes as the tables came in sight. One had collapsed, and it and the surrounding floor were covered in small humanoids swarming like rats over pies and cakes, slipping and falling in the mess, and fighting tooth-and-nail for the most delectable selections. She spotted Geraldo atop a flattened chocolate cake, beating off competitors with butter knife and fork.
Around this pitched battle scurried brownies wringing their hands over the chaos, desperately trying to clean up the mess but beaten back by hobgoblins protecting their booty. Ellie paused to catch her breath. Her spray bottle was in her backpack . . . somewhere. But on this night when she felt magic flowing through her veins, just maybe she could resolve the situation with her voice alone. She had to try.
Fixing her gaze on Geraldo first, then letting it drift from one hobgoblin to another, she spoke in a calming tone. “My friends, you know that theft and disturbance are not allowed in the castle where you live so comfortably. You have deliberately shown yourselves to guests, which is also strictly forbidden. Do you truly want to find yourselves evicted and sent away? Stop quarreling at once and help the brownies clean up the mess you’ve made, and I will do my best to calm the humans and make them forget this disaster.”
When she first began to speak, Geraldo dropped his weapons and shoved his fingers into his big ears. The others also tried to ignore her. But she firmed her tone and injected more power into her voice, and one by one they stopped quarreling. By the time she spoke the last sentence, every hobgoblin looked up at her with sheepish expression and sorrowful eyes. Geraldo held out longest, but at last he hung his head. “I am sorry, Miss Ellie and Madame Director.” His withered chest rose and fell in a sigh. “We will help clean up the mess.”
Only then did Ellie realize that Madame Genevieve stood behind her, observing all. Her grim, accusing expression might have intimidated Ellie at another time, but just now she still had work to do. She was uncertain how long the hobgoblins’ change of heart would last, so she hovered nearby during the clean-up. The ugly little creatures proved true to their word, and between brownies and hobgoblins, the floor was spotless in amazingly short order.
“Great work, Marielle. We’ll help them remove the heavy items,” Briar paused to say in her ear. Ellie blinked, but he moved away before she could question him.
She heard Omar say to Briar, “I didn’t know the little people could be seen if they chose. Remarkable!”
Little did he know how disastrous this could be for the resort, and for Ellie herself. If she couldn’t calm the non-magical guests, they might leave Faraway Castle in horror and never return—and she would quickly be out of a job.
Omar and Briar set a sack of shattered china on top of the broken table, then lifted it between them and carried it out of the ballroom. The brownies cleaned and straightened everything behind them, and soon no evidence of the catastrophe remained.
Except for the confused humans milling like sheep in the ballroom and gardens. They seemed dazed, Ellie thought as she surveyed the room. They had heard her voice while she spoke to the hobgoblins, but although their panic had ended, they were still cowed and fearful. Had she caused this? If so, she didn’t know how.
Ellie threaded her way between guests to the garden doors, which seemed the best place for projecting her voice to everyone in the gardens as well as the ballroom. Again she took a few deep breaths and focused. “There is no need to fear; all is well.” She felt her magic wind its way about the room as she spoke. “Some greedy little ones tried to steal the cakes and pies while no one was looking, but they have apologized, and the mess is cleaned up. Nothing important happened. Set your minds at rest, forget your fear, and enjoy this amazing Summer Ball!”
Nearby, people blinked and looked around at each other, their faces brightening into happiness and anticipation. The band members picked up their instruments, laughing at themselves for panicking over nothing, and their leader started them out on a lively polka. Several couples began to dance. To Ellie’s surprise, Omar’s parents were among them.
Just as she turned to see if Omar had returned, a sharp voice cut through the music and the buzz of conversation. “That girl in the purple gown, there by the door—it’s that cinder-sprite girl! It’s Cinder Ellie! How dare she come to the ball! She is part of the staff, a hired servant!”
It was Lady Raquel, her haughty face twisted with disgust, one perfectly manicured finger pointed directly at Ellie. People nearby turned to stare, some confused, others shocked, a few offended.
While Ellie stood frozen, Lady Gillian stepped forward and ripped the mask off her face. “Imposter!” she shouted. “I know how you’ve been stalking Prince Omar, and now everyone will know the truth about you.”
Other voices rose in accusation and protest. No one knew that Ellie had just saved the party, for all memory of the incident was now gone. How had she managed to remove their memory? Would she be in trouble for using her power to meddle with people’s minds?
And then Madame Genevieve appeared beside her. Although she stood near to Ellie, she spoke in a carrying tone for all to hear: “Ellie Calmer, your position here at Faraway Castle Resort is hereby terminated. You have abused your position, broken many rules, neglected your responsibilities in pursuit of personal advancement, and used magic in excessive and unlawful ways. You must pack your possessions and leave the grounds at once, or I will summon the proper authorities.” Her voice held vindictive satisfaction.
Why did this woman hate her so? Ellie wondered.
All around her she saw accusing faces, expressions of shock and condemnation. Where was Omar? Nowhere in sight. Would he condemn her too?
Horror and humiliation smothered any defense she might have made. She turned, pushed and shoved her way outside, and ran down the deck steps leading toward the side garden gate. Just as she reached the ground, she stumbled and one of her slippers fell off. But she ran onward, hopping and limping, until she reached the gate. Only when safely on the service road did she stop to pull off the other shoe before limping to her cottage. Once inside her house, she leaned her back against the door, dropped the slipper, slid down to sit on the floor, covered her face with both hands, and tried to process events of the past hour.
The Gamekeeper’s final words echoed in her mind: “I ask only that you allow nothing to destroy your joy tonight.” But how could he have anticipated such a calamity as this?
Omar and Briar carried the table outside, dumped the sack of broken plates into a garbage bin, then left the table propped outside a shed for later repair. The yard was dark, for none of the festive lighting extended to such practical places. “That was exciting,” Briar commented dryly. “Ellie’s power is impressive, but she needs further training to control it properly. Tell me, Omar, is there magic in your family?”
Omar glanced up, brushing off his hands, but Briar’s face was too shadowed to read. “Why do you ask?”
“I’ve noticed a few things,” Briar replied. “You’re able to see magical creatures that normally hide themselves from humans.”
“That started after I chased Tor to the island. I first saw brownies and hobgoblins in the dining room, and then brownies in the stable. I even met a toadstool fairy. Everyone can see cinder sprites, unicorns, and the lake serpent, can’t they?”
Briar opened the side door and motioned for Omar to enter the Castle. “Most people, at most times. Where magic is concerned, it’s dangerous to generalize. More to the point, I believe it is safe to say that a siren spoke to you while you were on the island.”
“I don’t recall it.” Omar frowned. “Do you think the siren blocked my memory of talking with her?”
“No doubt. Sirens seem to be adept at manipulating memories.” Briar again waved Omar inside.
Omar stepped through the doorway but turned back to address the other prince. “You have magic, don’t you? I can sense it, just as I sometimes sense Ellie’s.”
“Yeah, I have some. My sister and I both inherited magic from our mother.” Briar gave Omar an amused grin and held up his hands. “I need to wash before we return to the ballroom. I have an announcement to make tonight.”
On the way to the washroom, Omar remarked, “I didn’t know you had a sister.” He rolled up his sleeves, turned on the warm tap, and scrubbed stickiness and dirt from his hands. His tuxedo would need dry-cleaning after tonight, for certain.
Briar concentrated on washing his hands. “Most people don’t.”
Omar detected strange undertones in the prince’s voice. “Why not? What are you not telling me?”
Briar looked him straight in the eyes, paused, then grinned. “I was going to wait and make you find out along with everyone else, but I can’t do it. Here’s the deal: I’ve spent time with Ellie this week, trying to get to know her. I can’t help being proud of the woman she has become. Omar, if you were jealous when I danced with her tonight, don’t be. I love Ellie, but not in the same way you do.”
Omar’s brain processed this speech. “You’re telling me Ellie is your sister.”
“Never underestimate a mathematician,” Briar said. “She is. My twin. My older twin, to be exact. And now, should you return to the ballroom with me, you will soon hear the story—or as much of it as I know—of how she came to be here at Faraway Castle. As soon as I was positive that Ellie is indeed Crown Princess Marielle Yvette of Auvers, I sent for our parents. I’m not sure when they will arrive, but it will happen in the next day or two.”
The two young men faced off in the washroom off the kitchen, strange surroundings for a revelation. Omar knew he was blinking and staring like an idiot, but he couldn’t help himself. “Ellie is a princess. I should have known all along.”
Briar shrugged one shoulder. “How could you have known? Many exceptional women are not princesses, or even noblewomen in the sense the word is commonly used.” He sounded slightly annoyed. “But you are missing the crucial point of my revelation: Ellie will be queen someday. The law of primogeniture in Auvers includes firstborn daughters.”
Omar’s brow wrinkled. “That will certainly come as a surprise to her. How do you feel about becoming second in line for the throne after being the crown prince all your life?”
“Not all my life, only since Ellie disappeared. And, to be frank, I feel free!” The lift of one brow added a sardonic twist to this statement, leaving Omar confused.
“Shall we return to the ballroom?” Briar suggested. “I ask only that you allow me to break the news to Marielle. I believe her memories are starting to return. She danced with me tonight as if we were both still seven, performing our old lifts and spins.”
Omar might have remarked that she had danced just as naturally with him, but he kept that knowledge to himself, sensing Briar needed this connection with his twin sister.
The band still played as they entered, but dancers on the floor had stopped. People clustered at the garden doors, others turned to see what was happening, and the music faltered as band members dropped out one by one. Whispers became murmurs, and soon the room buzzed with talk.
Had the hobgoblins caused more trouble? Where was Ellie?
“What’s happening?” Omar asked a young lord he often teamed up with for tennis matches.
Lord Carevo, better known as Dino, answered, “Raquel and Gillian unmasked a staff member who dressed up and pretended to be a guest—the hot blonde you danced with. Did you know? The director fired her right in front of everyone.”
But Omar was no longer listening. He ran toward the garden door and struggled to break through the crowd. Ellie must have run outside, for everyone still stared in that direction. “Ellie!” he called.
At that moment, what felt like a cushion of magic dropped over the entire company, muting all sound. As Omar slowly turned, feeling as if he moved in a dream, a familiar voice called for attention. Prince Briar stood on the dais, his hands raised.
“Some” magic? Right.
Every eye in the room focused on Briar. “I wish to tell you a story.” His voice penetrated the thick silence. “Some of you know parts of this tale but not all. Eleven years ago, the royal family of Auvers traveled toward Faraway Castle, intending to experience our first family holiday. On the way, my parents, my twin sister, and I took a side trip to see the spectacular mountain views. One of the vehicles in our convoy got a flat tire, so my family stopped to picnic and enjoy the scenery while servants changed the flat. While we were eating, Marielle jumped up and chased after some bird or creature she had seen, calling for me to follow. By the time I got up and chased after her, it was too late. Not that I would have been able to save her.
“A huge griffin dropped out of the sky, grabbed Marielle from behind by her arms, and carried her away, high into the sky and beyond our sight. Our guards could not shoot at it for fear of harming Marielle, and the creature was quickly too far away for my mother’s magic to reach.”
Omar listened, as spellbound as everyone around him, while Briar spun out his astonishing tale.
“Our parents ordered an extensive search throughout the surrounding region, but no word of a little golden-haired girl could be found. They paid hunting parties to find that griffin. Our mother, Queen Brigitte, hired magicians to locate it or Marielle. All for nothing. It was as if she had vanished from the earth. As years passed with no sign of her, even our parents began to accept that she was forever lost to us and gave her up for dead, but I knew she must be alive and searched for her on my own.
“This summer I decided to visit Faraway Castle for the first time, and almost on the day I arrived I noticed a young woman bearing a strong resemblance to my family—to me, for that matter. I investigated, learned of her magical ability of persuasive speech and her connection with magical creatures, and my suspicion became certainty. Not until I conversed with a personage who professed to know her herbwoman protector did I discover when and how my sister disappeared eleven years ago: My father’s men were unable to locate her because the herbwoman places strong protective boundaries around her home.”
Briar paused to allow this information to sink into his audience’s minds, then pronounced: “The young woman known as Ellie Calmer, Controller of Magical Creatures at Faraway Castle, is my twin sister, Marielle Yvette Toulouse, daughter of Queen Brigitte and her consort, Prince Francis. She is my older sister, and rightfully Crown Princess of Auvers.”
The magical restraint lifted. Gasps and murmurs filled the room. Briar jumped off the platform near Lady Raquel and the Honorable Gillian. “Ladies,” he said coolly in passing, but it was enough.
Lady Raquel’s face was livid, her lips compressed. Gillian moaned, “The lost princess Marielle! We insulted our own Crown Princess! But how could we have known? We thought she was dead! It isn’t fair!”
The conquering prince passed Omar with only a twinkling glance then approached the king and queen of Khenifra. He bowed low before them—Omar could find no fault with Prince Briar’s manner. He was respectful without subservience, and his face was, for once, devoid of humor.
“Your Majesties, I ask you now, as brother to the Crown Princess Marielle, if you will accept her as a worthy bride for your son Prince Omar.”
Omar swallowed hard.
King Aryn tipped his chin down and nearly smiled. “Your Highness, we had already discussed the matter and decided to accept our son’s choice of wife, whatever her station in life. Your sister has already proven herself a worthy consort to any man with intelligence and spirit enough to claim her heart. Someday she will be a wise and just queen.”
Queen Sofia smiled directly at Omar. “Go to her, Omar. She needs you.”
Briar also turned to face Omar, pointed toward the garden door, and stated with evident enjoyment: “She went that way.”
Omar rushed from the ballroom, his heart flying ahead of his feet.
Ellie sat there in darkness with her back against the door, staring into space while questions whirled through her head.
Why would the Gamekeeper tell her not to lose her joy, no matter what? Did he know something she didn’t know? Did the director have authority to fire her, or should she contact him?
“Enough self-pity,” Ellie growled. “One way or another, I’ve got to get out of this dress.”
She pushed herself to her feet, took two steps, tripped over something, and staggered a few paces, certain she was going to ruin her gorgeous gown. But the dress was tougher than it appeared, and she managed to find her balance and a light switch.
She’d tripped over her backpack on the floor just inside the tiny living room. Someone must have . . . The mind-picture of that horrid pooka in her cottage flashed through her thoughts, but before she could creep herself out entirely, a chorus of squeaks distracted her. A little creature dashed from under one chair to another. She recognized that gleaming white fur. “Frosti? How . . .?” Two more sprites poked their heads from beneath the little sofa and whistled—the boys! Then Sparki scampered directly to Ellie and disappeared beneath her skirts. “Wait, did you . . .? No, you can’t possibly have carried in my pack. Why are you still here? Is the coach somewhere outside?”
Even as she asked the question, she knew the coach was gone. The Gamekeeper would have to come back for these four. “I need to set up cages for you girls and your friends. Would you fellows like to have names?”
She gathered the impression that names would be welcome, but she was fresh out of ideas. “Maybe I will find a way to ask the children to name you. I hope they’re able to come say goodbye.”
More to the point, would Omar come? Of course he would. But what could he say or do to make a future together possible?
No, best to focus on the current situation. She sat on the edge of a chair in a puddle of frothy skirts, leaned her elbows on her knees, and focused on Frosti and Sparki, who stepped out in the open to inform her. Their little mouths worked and their slender horns bobbed as they earnestly squeaked their news. And as she listened, Ellie caught the drift of their meaning. Really, she must find a way to learn cinder sprite language.
“You want to stay with me?” she responded to a particularly impassioned speech, jumbled though it was, since both sprites talked at once. “And the boys too? But, girls, I’ve been dismissed from my position here and must leave the resort immediately.”
All four chorused in protest, and she completely lost the sense in their response. Hearing something about the Gamekeeper, she said, “This isn’t your fault or the Gamekeeper’s in any way. I chose to take the risk in attending the ball, and up until Geraldo—he’s a hobgoblin—caused a disaster at the buffet tables, everything was wonderful. I danced with Omar, and . . .”
Her voice gave out. She shook her head, lips compressed, trying to regain control. Memories of the evening flitted through her thoughts, including her dance with Briar. Strange, how dancing with him had seemed familiar.
“And he called me . . . Marielle,” she said.
Memories tumbled through her thoughts so quickly that she felt dizzy. “That is my name—Marielle. Briar is the boy I danced with all those years ago. Now I remember his face back then, and I know. He . . . he always found fault with my dancing and picked on me. But if anyone else criticized me, he sprang to my defense.”
Her eyes widened to the shape of saucers. “Briar is my twin brother,” she whispered. “And he knows!” she said aloud. “That rat, he knows! Why didn’t he tell me?”
The sprites scampered away, still chirping to each other, as she awkwardly stood up, trying not to step on her skirts. “Omar!” she whispered. “I must tell him!”
At that moment she heard a knock at the door and Omar’s voice. “Ellie? I know you’re in there. Please open the door. I have important news—good news—to share!” She spun around, nearly fell upon the door in her rush to open it, then jerked it wide open.
He stood there, his expression hopeful, tentative, concerned. Then he held out a sparkling glass slipper. “Might this be yours, my lady?”
She laughed in a nervous burst and snatched it from him with both hands. Unable to hold everything back, she exclaimed in a rush, dancing in place with excitement: “Omar! Everything has changed! I remember! I know who I am! When Briar called me Marielle—did you hear him?—I didn’t even notice at first. I knew it was my name without thinking. When we danced, it felt so natural, as if we had done it a thousand times—which we have! And just now I realized that he’s my brother! My twin brother who tormented the life out of me, but he was my best friend. No wonder I always felt so comfortable with him and never mistook his friendliness for flirting.”
Only then did she notice Omar’s lack of surprise. “Did you know already?”
“Briar just told everyone at the ball that you are his sister, Crown Princess Marielle. He explained how you were carried off by a griffin, and how, after years of desperate searching, your parents believed you were dead. But they, your parents, are coming here soon, perhaps tomorrow!”
Ellie listened with the slipper clutched against her chest, breathing hard. Then, with a gasp, she dropped the shoe, which hit the floor with a loud clunk. Covering her face with her hands, she shook her head. “It’s too much to take in! Omar, what shall I do?”
“I have a great idea,” he said, only partly joking. “You should marry me. May I ask you now?
She parted her hands to give him a glowing smile . . . and nodded.
Omar went down on one knee right there on her doorstep. “Marielle—my dearest Ellie—will you marry me? Please be my wife!”
He looked so hopeful and sweet and uncertain that Ellie bent down, took his face between her hands, and kissed him. “Yes! Oh yes, I will marry you, Omar!”
He stared up at her, dazed and startled, though he appeared not at all displeased.
Ellie stood up straight, took a step back inside, and laughed again. “My first kiss, and I stole it!”
He blinked, stood up, swallowed hard, then grinned sheepishly. “It was my first kiss too. And I didn’t mind having it stolen. Not at all.” He stepped forward, took her in his arms, and said, “But I’m stealing the next one.” And he proceeded to kiss her thoroughly right there in the doorway, making up for lost time.
After a few minutes, Ellie pulled back slightly and blurted, “But this changes everything. Now I must become queen someday, unless I abdicate and let Briar be king. And what will your parents think? They might accept me now, but I hate to think I’m acceptable only for my rank.”
He nodded soberly. “I suppose we can never know for certain, but my father told me, only minutes ago, that they had already decided to allow me to marry whomever I chose, and I believe them. They understand that their own happiness in an arranged marriage is a rare blessing and . . . well, while you and I danced, I saw my mother watching us, and she looked pleased, like the cat who stole the cream. I didn’t stop to analyze at the time, but now I think I understand: She recognized love when she saw us together.”
“Then we are officially engaged to marry,” Ellie said in wonder, gazing up at him. “Omar, I have loved you for so long! I want to marry you soon. I don’t want to be apart while you finish school. After tonight, I don’t think I could be comfortable working at the resort even if Madame would take me back.”
He smiled in mild amusement. “I expect you will travel to Auvers with your parents and spend the next few months learning how to be Crown Princess. Your life is about to change in major ways, my sweet Ellie.” He placed one hand on her cheek and kissed her forehead.
“I know, and that frightens me.” She turned her face into his caress, sighed, then slid her arms up around his neck and pressed close. “The only change I really want is to be with you all the time.”
“I want that too.” He rested his cheek on her hair and sighed. “But many other changes must come first. We could elope, but I don’t want to alienate your parents from the start.”
Ellie sighed. “You are right, of course. I hope Briar comes along to help me adjust to Auvers. I have some memories of it, but I’m sure it will look entirely different to me now.”
They held each other for a long moment, soaking in the closeness. But Ellie’s brain could not relax. “Are you sure you want to be prince consort someday? You’re already a prince, so you won’t need a new title—that’s good. I don’t remember my parents well enough to know what it’s like for my father. I seem to remember my mother being rather . . . forceful. And that frightens me too. What if she objects to our marriage?”
“Ellie, don’t borrow trouble. Let’s meet them first, tell them of our betrothal, and see where things go from there. I’m sure objections and impediments will come, but we’ll handle things together, all right? Being prince consort will be a challenging adventure, true, but I already expected adventure in marrying you. You’ll make a great queen someday.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I know so.” He held her close, and she relaxed against him, though he could almost feel the tumult of her thinking.
“Do I hear cinder sprites?” Omar asked after a moment. “I thought the Gamekeeper came to take them.”
Ellie tipped her face up and smiled. “You do, and he did, but some decided to come back. I have so much to tell you about my visit to the Gamekeeper’s house and how I was able to come to the ball! I even met the griffin that stole me. That was the weirdest part of a very strange day.”
She paused, grimaced, and shuddered. “I think I was happier not remembering some of my past. But most of today was incredibly good. And I am so exhausted I can hardly think straight.”
She rose on tiptoe and regarded him earnestly. “Omar, will you mind terribly if I keep a few cinder sprites around our house? They won’t start fires or stink of sulphur, I promise.”
He laughed, quickly kissed her again, unable to resist, then answered, “My poor brain is galloping all-out, trying to keep up with your train of thought. And I suppose having magical creatures around the house comes with marrying a magical-creature wrangler. Credit where credit is due: I might never have worked up nerve to speak to you if a sprite hadn’t lured you into my bedchamber.”
Laughing, Ellie hid her face in his shoulder. “What a crazy story to tell!”
“If we don’t spread it, my little brothers will.” Grinning, he said, “The children will be beyond delighted to have you in the family, Ellie! We do need to return to the ballroom and let everyone know.”
She smoothed the back of his hair and sighed. “I know, but it was lovely to stretch out this time together, just the two of us.”
“The first of many times,” he said with manifest satisfaction.
Ellie ran to fix her hair and makeup, donned the glass slippers, then returned in a rush to take Omar’s arm and walk back to the castle. They entered the lobby through the main doors, and their entrance caused a stir. Rafiq, Yasmine, Karim, and Rita rushed to surround them before they were halfway to the ballroom door.
“We heard the news! Ellie is a princess!” “You two can get married now, right?” “Ellie will be our sister!” “Did you kiss her yet?” All four Zeidans talked at once, and not until Ellie bent to kiss each one in turn did they settle down.
“Yes, darlings, we are going to get married, and you are the first to officially know,” she told them quietly. “And you will be my brothers and sisters forever and ever.”
Rita and Karim hopped around, squealing and waving their arms. Yasmine clasped her hands beneath her chin and beamed for joy, bouncing on her toes. Rafiq shuffled his feet, his expression shifting from a smile to a frown to a smile with dizzying rapidity until it finally settled into satisfied lines and remained. “Good going, Omar. You finally got her.”
Ellie took Rita and Karim by the hands, and the six of them entered the ballroom together, all glowing with happiness.
King Aryn and Queen Sofia hurried forward to meet them. The king glanced back and forth between their faces and smiled. “It is settled, then.”
Omar’s mother faced Ellie squarely. “I hope you may someday forgive our behavior toward you, my dear. We gladly welcome you into our family and our hearts, and I only wish we had revealed our change of heart before your heritage was made known to us. May we”—she glanced from Ellie to Omar and back—“announce your betrothal tonight?
Ellie let go of the children’s hands and reached both hands to the Queen, who grasped them quickly. “I forgive you freely, Your Majesties, and you have my permission to tell the whole world!”
Any remaining fear or resentment slipped away when she saw the genuine joy in Omar’s face, as well as the relief and pleasure so evident in his parents’ smiles. Word was sent to the band, which interrupted its song and played a flourish to demand attention.
Then King Arryn and Queen Sophia stood on the platform together, smiling from ear to ear—a very handsome couple, Ellie thought once again—and the King proclaimed: “Tonight we ask you all to share our joy in announcing the betrothal of our son Omar Jibran Tazim Zeidan, Prince of Khenifra, to Marielle Yvette Toulouse, Crown Princess of Auvers.”
A great cheer arose, for the capricious crowd delighted in the tale of a lost princess found and had already forgotten its condemnation of an hour before. First to congratulate them was Prince Briar, who embraced his sister and spoke into her ear: “He will spoil you with kindness, but as your brother I am bound to keep you humble and cross.”
“Like old times,” Ellie said, and kissed his cheek. “I remember more about your peskiness now and promise to screech insults at you regularly.”
He gazed fondly into her eyes. “Some things never change.”
She hugged him again. “Thank you, Briar. For everything.” Then she remembered. “But . . . the throne? Do you mind very much?”
He laughed softly. “Marielle, why do you think I have searched for you so diligently all these years? Aside from the minor fact that I missed you, I mean. Becoming heir apparent to the throne was the worst thing that ever happened to me. I have no desire whatsoever to be king.”
Ellie had to laugh. “And you think I want to be queen? All because I was born a few minutes before you? You are soooo lucky Auvers doesn’t demand a male heir to the throne.”
“If it did, neither of us would be heir, since our mother wouldn’t be queen.”
“There is that,” Ellie agreed. “I suppose I’ll just have to accept my role, which won’t be so bad with Omar at my side.” She looked proudly at her fiancé, who was now a few paces away, accepting congratulations from a crowd of friends.
Briar gave her his usual wry smile. “You two are a great match. Confronting Mother is not my favorite thing, but I promise to stand with you during your transition. And I’m one-hundred percent behind Omar. It’s a good thing you two are officially betrothed.”
“You think Mother will object?”
His amused expression told her much. “I merely advise you to prepare for the worst. Only you have the right to choose your husband, and you have chosen well. Omar may not have magic, but he has a strong backbone. He’ll handle the pressure. You’re the one I worry about, soft-hearted as you are. Mother will use that and your sense of obligation against you.”
Ellie appreciated her brother’s honesty. He didn’t even try to soothe her with magic, which she appreciated. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for everything, Briar.”
He accepted her quick hug with a brief smile. “Yeah, yeah. I’m doing it for myself too. You’ll notice, the director discreetly disappeared, poor old thing. And your magical friends are gathered to celebrate with you. Now go dance with your fiancé.”
The band began to play a romantic song, and several couples took to the floor. Omar turned, caught Ellie’s gaze, and raised his brows. She hurried to take his hand, and they joined the dancers, moving cheek to cheek. Ellie was tickled to see, moments later, the King and Queen of Khenifra dancing nearby.
Even as she relaxed into Omar’s arms, Ellie noticed faces in the crowd surrounding the dance floor. Four dwarfs, her particular friends Chuck, Tasha, Sten, and Nillie, all wearing their glamours, stood at the edge of the dance floor and smiled their approval.
“It’s a wonderful party,” Ellie told Nillie, the resort’s event-planner, as she and Omar danced past, and all four dwarfs gave her two thumbs-ups.
Sira and other brownies had worked their way to the front of the throng and waved to her and Omar with evident delight despite their mournful faces. Even Geraldo perched on the edge of the band platform and glowered at her, his twiggy arms crossed over his chest. She winked at him, and he rolled his eyes, which made her smile.
Ellie could only imagine how pleased her cinder sprite friends would be to hear her news, and the Gamekeeper, who had orchestrated this entire evening, she appreciated most of all.
“Omar, I do not see how I could ever be happier!” she murmured into his ear.
His arms around her tightened briefly, and she heard a smile in his voice as he replied, “Oh, I think we’ll find a way.”