"Ah, yes," Auberg whispered. He rested a gentle hand on her shoulder and guided her a few steps to the right. Another key opened the right set of wardrobe doors, and Merrigan flinched as she was confronted with a full-length mirror. She tried to focus just on the circlet in her hair, but she couldn't help noticing ...
"Bib, you were right," she whispered. In awe, she touched her hair. Dark silver and sable had replaced the thin mass of snowy white. When she washed her hair, she tried not to look at it, doing everything by feel. Granted, there weren't any mirrors in the orphanage, and she hadn't missed them. Her braids had thickened from bodice laces to plump sausages. She wondered that she hadn't noticed the change when she brushed and braided her hair every morning and evening.
Merrigan knew she was wasting time, so she turned her gaze away, but not before she saw other changes in her appearance. Belinda was indeed right—she stood taller, straighter, and had fewer wrinkles. Her nose didn't look quite so much like a hawk's beak. Her jaws weren't nutcrackers. And no warts.
"They might just believe me," she said, her voice crackling a little, as she turned to face King Auberg. "When the princes track down Belinda. When I take my cap off and they see the crown, they just might believe me when I tell them I'm a princess."
"Of course they will. Because you are indeed a princess. A real princess." His smile went crooked and he patted her shoulder. "I daresay, more of a princess now than you ever were."
Merrigan didn't want to think too long or hard on just what he meant. Like so many other things she had thought about and learned since Clara cursed her, she knew she wouldn't like these new revelations about herself.
By this time, everyone in the city seemed to know Mistress Mara on sight, friend of Prince Aubrey and Princess Gilda. Merrigan's face and neck actually hurt from smiling and nodding greetings to everyone who called her by name on the long walk back to the orphanage. She wished she had accepted the carriage King Auberg had offered her, but she had decided to walk to attract as little attention as possible. That had been wasted effort.
"Look on the bright side," Belinda offered, when she and Merrigan and Bib were alone just before dinner. "You proved that it won't easily fall out of your hair." She lightly reached up to touch the circlet, still sitting securely among Merrigan's braids.
Merrigan wrinkled up her nose at her, and a moment later the two shared some giggles. Ordinarily, she wouldn't be quite so lighthearted about being responsible for the lovely old circlet, especially when it was very obvious it had deep sentimental value for King Auberg. However, Bib was the perfect guardian for the treasure when Merrigan wouldn't be wearing it. Just like other things he had hidden in his pages for safekeeping, the circlet would be safe, with no damage to it or his pages.
Their mirth buoyed them up against the depressing news that came the next afternoon, when a guardsman in palace livery delivered a thick packet of papers from the king. Of the fourteen princes who had been hunting Belinda, nine had come to the royal wedding. Two had targeted princesses who were the only siblings of unmarried kings, meaning they could inherit the throne. Both princesses were rather long in the tooth and hadn't been considered beauties even in their heyday. Belinda declared that served her unwanted suitors right. Seven lingered in Alliburton. King Auberg had assigned trustworthy men to keep track of the princes, and he promised to send daily reports on their activities.
Merrigan thought they were very well off, considering the circumstances. Forewarned was forearmed. Then Belinda picked up another piece of paper from the packet. This was a list of royalty currently without a throne. King Auberg's secretary who had compiled the information noted that while the princes, princesses, dukes and other assorted nobility were of no threat to the runaway princess, he thought it worthwhile to watch their activities until they left Alliburton.
"Oh, no, no, no," Belinda murmured, staring at several lines at the top of the list.
"What?" Merrigan thought she might have to tear the paper to get it out of the other princess's hand.
Belinda's eyes filled with tears. She handed Merrigan the paper, slumped back in her seat, covered her face with her hands, and trembled as the tears dripped through her fingers.
Merrigan read through the list. Thanks to interfering Fae and enchanters, evil wizards and other majjians, the list of royalty deprived of their thrones stayed relatively short. They won someone else's throne, regained their own kingdom, vanished, or they renounced their thrones altogether, to pursue a simple life. She read the list three times, her gaze skipping over a specific line.
Stop being such a ninny. For good measure, she clenched the fist not holding the paper, digging her nails into her palm.
Chapter Fifteen
The pain helped, surprisingly. Merrigan read Sylvanglade, with a squeezing sensation around her heart. Then she saw Prince Bayl's name and understood entirely. Poor Belinda. How it had to pain her, to know the prince she loved was in Alliburton. She never saw him during the wedding festivities. Even if he had looked right at her, the disguise spells interfered. She tried to think of something she could
