Willow was not a man given to anger, but at the moment, none would know it. What a stubborn, disagreeable old man! Had rejected the book outright, barely giving him time to speak, and shut the door in his face. Willow stopped in front of the castle and swung off his horse, letting his boots plunk down.

"Here to see Princess Maelyn," he said at the door.

Arialain peeked out of the gap. "She's done taking audience for the day."

Willow sighed. "Well, please tell her-"

"But she said if you came, I should let you in."

"Oh!" Wondering why she hadn't said this first, Willow stepped inside the castle. The rich smell of beef reached him and he knew Heidel's supper would be better than the inn's. But he couldn't ask. He was already behind schedule and should've been well on his way to Grunwold by now. With Ivy's letter.

"She's in her library—this way." Arialain walked ahead of him in the same cherry-red dress she had worn the day he met her. Willow noticed she held a wooden sword in her hand, the kind knights-in-training used for practice. Were he in a better mood, he might have thought that cute.

They walked through several corridors to a door he'd never seen. Arialain knocked and leaned in. "Messenger," was all she said. She walked away, leaving the door ajar.

Willow quietly entered the room. Maelyn sat in a chair by an unlit fireplace, her feet resting on a padded stool and a plate of biscuits in her lap. She gave him a weary smile. "Hello, Willow."

Willow walked toward her, shame burning his cheeks. May as well confess his incompetence straight away. He held up the book she'd given him, The Heartsick Hero. "I failed you, my lady."

Maelyn rested her forehead on her fingertips and Willow wished he could beat himself into unconsciousness. She looked so disappointed.

"Don't fret, Willow. The Book Miser is stubborn. And he never liked me."

"Can't see why, my lady." What was there to dislike about her? Anyone could see she was a lovely person, and trying very hard. He stood by her feet, wondering if it was proper to be looking down at her. Seemed like he shouldn't sit down unless she asked.

She looked up and gave him a warmer smile. "That's kind of you, Willow. Now, why didn't the miser want my book?"

Willow grimaced. "He said he didn't read books from Bella Reino. Said it sounded like sentimental rubbish, womanly stuff. Said the book itself is too plain, no jewels on the cover or illuminated pages."

Maelyn sighed. "If I offered one of my finer books, he'd give his rattiest volume in return." She set her plate aside and rose from the chair. "Still, I'm desperate for something new to read."

She walked to the shelves and Willow had time to notice the library. She had an extensive collection, with bookshelves covering every wall, though not every shelf was filled. His fingers itched to examine the books, and he watched her with a spirit of envy.

"Do you enjoy reading?" Maelyn asked.

"I do, my lady." Willow glanced at the furniture crowding the room. "I notice there are nine chairs in here. Do your sisters use the library often?"

Maelyn slid a wide book off the shelf, gripping it with both hands. "We have the royal reading hour every night after supper. Some of my sisters enjoy it. Not Coralina."

Willow laughed, though he hadn't met Coralina. Maelyn chuckled.

"I never got along with my sister, Maple," Willow said. "Mother once said if the two of us were kingdoms, we would always be at war."

He'd wanted her to laugh, but her face looked troubled. She turned to him. "Willow... do you feel you belong to your family even though they took you in? Do you ever think your life isn't... real?"

There it was: the crack in her fortress. But the note of fear concerned him.

"Is someone threatening you?" he asked.

She gave him a sharp look, and no answer came.

"King Jarrod?"

She shrugged, confirming his guess. "I don't know. He's coming here in six weeks to inspect us. Have you ever known someone who's only capable of disapproval?"

Willow nodded. He'd had a tutor like that once.

"He'll never let me win," Maelyn said.

Willow stepped closer to her. "What is it you think you'll lose?"

He saw Maelyn's eyes fall to the nine chairs around them. He knew the answer.

"Have you met Jarrod yet?" she asked, looking at the book in her hands.

Willow nodded. "Yes, I met him recently. His wife, too."

"How did he treat you? Warm and friendly?"

"Very much so," Willow said. "But I know he's not always like that. Rowan told me."

"He never approved of Father taking us in. 'Royalty can only be born, not grown.' He doesn't see us as real princesses, real daughters of Dellan. He never did."

Nor did she. That's what mattered here. She wouldn't care what Jarrod thought if she didn't also believe it herself. Willow watched her and waited until she met his eyes.

"My dear lady, of course you are real," he said softly.

He saw tears, then the hardening of her walls. She pushed the heavy book into his arms and walked away from him. "Try that. See if the Book Miser will take it."