“Briony!” my mother cried. “I’m so glad to see you.”
My father rumbled in agreement and opened his mouth. My mother went on before he could speak. “I sent a maid to your room to make sure you were all right, but she hasn’t returned yet. I was starting to worry.”
The poor girl was probably wandering all over the castle looking for me. I opened my mouth, then closed it. My mother’s solution would be to send another maid after the first one, which would only double the problem. I would have to track down the maid on my own.
First things first. I curtsied to my parents, then went into the room and picked a cinnamon roll off the tray. I bit into it, and crumbs sprayed from my mouth, some flying so far that Varian had to brush them off his knees.
“Really, Briony,” my mother said.
“Sorry,” I said, meaning it. But I was still more hungry than sorry, so I grabbed a blueberry muffin. I tried to chew it more slowly. “Edwin, do you want one?”
Edwin hovered in the doorway. I could tell by his face that he was as hungry as I was, but he didn’t move. “I, um, I’m not sure I should.”
“No,” my mother said, “you certainly should not.” As usual, it took her very little time to shift from concern for my well-being to irritation with something I had done. “Who are you, boy? I don’t recognize you.”
Edwin looked surprised. He had probably assumed that the queen wouldn’t recognize any of the common servants in the castle. But my mother was a master at keeping track of details. Ever since a forgotten invitation had led to a fairy curse, she had become extremely well organized.
I took another muffin and marched it over to Edwin. “Here.”
Edwin shifted his feet nervously and made no move to take it.
“I command you to eat it,” I said. “Do you hear that, Your Majesties? He has no choice.”
My father sighed. “Go ahead, boy.”
“It’s not that,” Edwin said apologetically. “I just, um, I don’t like blueberries.”
There was a moment of silence. Then a muffin went flying past my ear. Edwin caught it.
“That one’s plain,” Varian said, lowering his hand. He had thrown the muffin with excellent aim. “Better?”
“Yes,” Edwin said. “Thank you.”
He bit into the muffin, and I turned back to the room.
“Excuse me,” my mother said, shooting Varian a disapproving look. “As you might have noticed, we are in the midst of a terrible crisis.” Her voice trembled a bit. “The spell has…Rosalin has…”
My father cleared his throat. “We need to discuss how to move forward.” He took my mother’s hand. “Briony, if you’re hungry, go to the kitchen and have them make you something.”
“There’s no them,” I said. “Haven’t you noticed? The servants are mostly gone.”
From the way my mother’s mouth tightened, I could tell that she had noticed. But my father just waved his free hand impatiently. “We will bring in new servants once the Thornwood fades away.”
I swallowed the last piece of my muffin a little too fast. It went down in a hard, solid lump. “ ‘Fades away’? Is that what it’s doing?”
“Of course,” my father said. “Now that the spell has been broken, the magic sustaining the Thornwood has vanished, and it will wither and die.” He patted the back of my mother’s hand. My father was very good at reassuring people, even when he had no idea what to do. It was a very useful skill for a king. “This has been a terrible shock to all of us. I truly believed that we—that Rosalin was going to escape the curse.” His voice faltered for a tiny second. Varian and Edwin probably didn’t even notice, but I knew my father well. “You just need to be patient, Briony. I know that isn’t always easy for you—”
I strode past my parents to the window and pulled the curtains aside. I had to really pull, because several thorns were latched into the fabric. When I finally yanked one side free, it revealed a branch curled sulkily over the windowsill, its thorns clinging to the wall.
The branch jabbed at me, and I stepped back hastily.
“I think,” I said, “that this is the opposite of fading away.”
My father stared at the thorns. A thin wheezing sound came from his mouth.
“The spell is gone,” I said, “but the Thornwood is growing. And it’s coming after us.”
My mother let out a shrill scream. From the doorway, Edwin sighed.
“That’s a good idea,” he said. “Since we’re all trapped in here, why not cause a panic?”
My father turned. His eyes were wide and a bit wild. “What do you mean, ‘trapped in here’?”
“Uh…” Edwin opened his mouth, closed it, and sighed again.
“There’s no need to panic,” I said. “I have a plan.”
My mother’s and father’s expressions did not change. Varian, for the first time, looked alarmed.
“Don’t be afraid,” he began.
I shook my head. “You really need to stop saying that.”
“We must do something!” my mother said. She pressed her hands to her mouth. “We must— We have to— Oh, oh, oh. What are we to do?”
My father cleared his throat. “Don’t panic, my dear.”
I wished Varian weren’t there. But I couldn’t think of any way to make him leave. And there was no way I would convince my parents that whatever I had to say was too important for Rosalin’s future husband to hear.
Oh, well. “I know how we can get through the Thornwood,” I announced.
“There is someone who can help us,” my father said at the same exact moment. He was already on his feet. “We must find the royal wizard.”
“The royal wizard?” My mother’s voice went high with hope. “He’s here? He’s in the castle?”
“Wait,” I said. “Listen to—”
“He was in the castle when the spell hit,” my father said, his eyes alight. “One of the chambermaids saw him. He’ll know what to do.”
I looked at Edwin, but he was
