Edwin remained silent.
The kennel boy shot to his feet, so fast I didn’t realize what he was doing until his hand closed around Edwin’s upper arm. “Answer me, sniveler. Why are you here? Are you the one who brought the spinning wheel into the castle?”
“Of course he’s not!” I said. I was close enough to see how tightly the boy was holding Edwin. “Leave him alone.”
“I don’t need to hear from you, Princess,” the kennel boy spat. “This is your fault, too.”
Edwin’s face went smooth and taut, like he could feel nothing. But I knew he was afraid and in pain. He was just very good at hiding it.
Because he was used to it.
A rush of fury went through me. I stepped forward. “Unhand him at once!”
The kennel boy looked me up and down and laughed.
I’m pretty used to being laughed at. Rosalin laughs at me an average of six times a day (I kept count for a while). But something about this laugh…
“Oho,” the boy said. “The princess is commanding me, is she?”
I wanted to step back. Actually, I wanted to turn and run. And I’m pretty sure I would have, if not for Edwin’s set face and grim, helplessly brave eyes.
Then Varian stepped up next to us. I hadn’t noticed, until now, how tall he was.
“And you must be the prince,” the kennel boy said. He tried to sneer, but his defiance wavered halfway through.
Varian waited, ominously silent.
The kennel boy let go of Edwin’s arm. He stepped back and lifted his chin, but he wasn’t nearly as good at hiding his fear as Edwin was. “Come to save the princess and forget the rest of us, have you?”
“We are going to save all of you,” Varian said. His voice was quiet but somehow menacing. “And you are in our way.”
The boy held his sneer for a fraction of a second. Then he turned and stomped down the hall.
“Well,” I said after a moment. My voice shook, which was embarrassing—I wasn’t even the one who had been attacked. But the sheer force of the kennel boy’s hatred made me want to cry. I tried to copy Edwin’s inscrutable expression. “He didn’t have much courage, did he?”
“He was alone,” Edwin said. “It’s always easier when there’s just one. It’s impossible to get them to back off when they come in a group.”
He said it matter-of-factly, like this was just a fact of life. Along the lines of If you go outside when it rains, you’ll get wet or It’s not a good idea to insult fairies.
I stood staring at him, until he noticed and flashed me an oddly apologetic grin. I looked away.
No wonder he had come here.
“In that case,” Varian said grimly, “I suggest we avoid any groups. It seems there are some in this castle who blame the royal family for their plight.”
“Then why did he go after Edwin?” I said, mystified. “It’s obviously not his fault!”
Edwin massaged his upper arm. “Well, he couldn’t exactly come after you, could he?”
My stomach clenched. I quickly walked on ahead so he wouldn’t see my face.
Because the thing was, Edwin was wrong. He could come after me. Anyone could. I was princess of nothing; there was no kingdom around us, and I had seen zero members of the guard so far. There were very few people left in this castle, and it seemed most of them blamed my family for their predicament.
And their rage would grow the longer we were trapped here.
They could come after me. After me, and Rosalin, and our parents.
They could, and they would.
So we had to get out of here before they did.
The palace apothecary was empty, which didn’t surprise me. Our herbalist and our surgeon were a married pair, and they had children and grandchildren living in the village. They wouldn’t have remained in the castle on the day of the curse.
The apothecary was also a mess. The pots on the shelves were knocked over sideways or smashed on the floor, and the dried herbs had been yanked from their hooks on the wall. The table was a mass of mixed herbs, smeared honey ointment, and shattered bits of clay.
I stood in the doorway, staring. The apothecary was my least favorite place in the castle—I had spent too many hours here having foul-smelling pastes applied to my hair. All the same, tears stung my eyes. Whoever had wrecked this place had done a savage job of it.
“Who could have done this?” I said.
Edwin’s hand closed reassuringly around mine. “You saw how upset the kennel boy was. Angry people tend to break things.”
“But—why the apothecary?”
“They probably came looking for something,” Varian said. “Wine, maybe. And when they didn’t find it…”
“Why wouldn’t they find it?” I felt very stupid, like I was asking obvious questions. But I didn’t know the answers.
“Because someone else found it first.” Varian picked up a cracked jug, shook it upside down—nothing came out—and sniffed it. “Someone in this castle is very drunk right now.”
“But the herbs are also all torn down,” Edwin said. “What would anyone want from them? They’re all just medicines, or…or…”
I swallowed. “Or poisons.”
Edwin’s grip on my hand tightened.
I pulled away and marched over to the cupboard where the bandages were kept. It was still closed, and its contents were intact. I pulled out a strip of white cloth. “Varian, hold out your hand.”
He did. I blinked at it. “You’re left-handed?”
“No,” he said. “But since we’re only pretending, I might as well have my right hand available for holding the sword. Just in case I need to.”
“Don’t you think Rosalin will have noticed that you’re right-handed?”
“You didn’t notice,” Varian pointed out.
“Rosalin has been paying closer attention to you. She’s half in love with you already, you know. She was before she ever met you.”
Varian surprised me by flushing. “I know she’s been waiting to meet me all her life. But until yesterday, I never imagined I would meet her. I didn’t even completely
