She had to try. One more attempt to escape this. Maelyn waited until her sisters finished supper and trickled out of the room.

"Uncle Jarrod... I don't want to marry your son."

She kept her voice resolute. She would not sound desperate. There had to be some way to reason with him.

They sat at polar ends of the table, banked by empty chairs. Uncle Jarrod ripped a corner off his bread and smiled. "Now what's wrong with my Roald? You don't like him?"

Maelyn watched him steadily. "I don't want to marry him. I can't make him happy. Or you. I don't think you want me as the next queen of Grunwold."

Uncle Jarrod's jeweled fingers beckoned her forward and Maelyn moved to a chair by his elbow, still warm from Coralina. His creepy servant stood by the wall, but she'd gotten good at ignoring him.

"Well, what, then?" Uncle Jarrod said. "What would you propose as a... happier outcome?"

"Leave me here. If you want to crown Coralina—go ahead. But she'll need me here to help her. I'm simply asking you to show mercy and let me stay with my family."

Uncle Jarrod snorted. "Family." He tore another chunk off his bread and chewed it slowly. "Yes... Runa used to use terms like that. Her family. Her children. Nine little paupers who looked nothing alike. It was embarrassing."

He reached for his wine goblet but Maelyn swung her hand and knocked it over. A murky red puddle shot through the white tablecloth.

She shoved back her chair and stood. "WHY have you never accepted us?" she shouted. "Whether it pleases you or not, we are the daughters of your brother. You can't reverse that!"

Now Uncle Jarrod stood, looming seven disdainful inches over Maelyn's head. Maelyn returned his glare and refused to look intimidated.

Uncle Jarrod slapped her face.

Maelyn gasped and stumbled backward. Her cheek stung with a prickling flame.

"Don't tell me what I cannot do," Uncle Jarrod said in ironclad tones. "Sit down, princess."

Maelyn sat, fighting for a defiant expression while tears perched on her eyelids. Uncle Jarrod straightened his goblet and poured the last trickle of wine from a silver pitcher. He sank into his chair and touched his fingertips together. "Does this mean you refuse to go with me tomorrow?"

Maelyn nodded.

"And if I should have you taken by force?"

"You cannot force me to speak the marriage vows."

Uncle Jarrod tugged at his salt-and-pepper beard. "Well then, I suppose I must choose one of your more... submissive sisters. What about that nice little one who paints? The one with the gimpy leg."

Maelyn's eyes widened. Ivy. She'd be traumatized if she was taken from her family. Made to live in a huge castle with so much to overwhelm her. Forced to marry Prince Roald, who—Maelyn didn't doubt—was as cold and brutal as his father. It would kill Ivy. Literally kill her.

"No," Maelyn said firmly. "Not Ivy."

Uncle Jarrod righted the fallen wine goblet. "Very well. You choose."

Maelyn flinched. "What?"

"One of you must go. So tell me, princess... which of your sisters will you send away?"

A lone tear shivered on Maelyn's sore cheek. She had tried. Tried to defy him, as Willow had suggested. She lowered her face to the table and cried into the backs of her hands.

Uncle Jarrod patted her hair.

Last time sleeping in this bed. Maelyn looked at her chamber, lit by the single candle she had burning on her night table. Tall windows. Walls painted a subtle rose. Chairs by the fireplace in which she'd read many books, or had laughing conversations with Heidel. The portrait of her parents above the mantel. Her room was dear to her.

She sat on the bed with The Devious Damsel lying open and untouched beside her. Looking at it made her think of Willow... but she intended to read it. If nothing else, one of her problems would be solved. Grunwold castle had a massive library.

She shut her eyes and pondered her options. Could she run away? Find a remote kingdom where she wouldn't be recognized? But even if Uncle Jarrod didn't hunt her down, he might fall back on Ivy for Prince Roald's bride. She wouldn't do that to Ivy.

Could she face the marriage? Maybe Roald would improve on acquaintance. Maybe he wouldn't be as horrible as his father. Maybe the people of Grunwold would welcome her and not resent her for not being a real princess....

Maelyn thumped the back of her head repeatedly against the headboard. She was real. She was real. She was real.

She began to wonder about her sisters. Naturally, they would visit her in Grunwold. Occasionally. And probably not all at once. Then they'd trickle away, one by one; married to other princes and carted off to distant lands. Father had gathered them like a bouquet of wildflowers; now Uncle Jarrod would scatter them across the world again.

Her sisters. Her friends.

Heidel. Arialain. Briette. Even Coco.

She wasn't ready to leave them.

"You tricked me!" shrieked the wicked pixie as she tore out clumps of her emerald-green hair. "That potion should have killed you. I mixed it myself!"

A sly smile spread across the devious damsel's face. "I would indeed have perished—but you neglected to add the crushed dragon tooth to your potion."

"I did add the crushed dragon tooth!" wailed the wicked pixie. But the devious damsel shook her fair head. "I switched it with a jar of powdered unicorn horn."

The pixie paled with dread. "You drank powdered unicorn horn? That means your curse is... is...."

"Broken," finished the devious damsel. "My powers are restored." With that, a ball of white light shot forth from her palm and engulfed the wicked pixie. The pixie screamed and thrashed as the magical light transformed her small body into—

"Maelyn?" Heidel thumped the door of her bedchamber. "Are you awake?"

"No," Maelyn said, eyes fastened to the page. She'd read last night until the candle burned out, and again at the first rays of sunlight. The door swept open and she heard a pattering of multiple feet. Before she could look up, a storm of princesses in nightgowns crashed on her bed and she found herself smothered by a tangle of arms.

"Maelyn, you can't leave us!" her sisters cried.

Maelyn clung to them, laughing and crying at once. "I don't want to!"

"Then don't," Heidel said. "Tell Uncle Jarrod you refuse to go with him."

Maelyn shook her head. "It won't work." She extracted herself from her sisters' embrace. "Uncle Jarrod didn't become High King by accident. He knows how to crush defiance."

Heidel propped her elbow on Maelyn's pillow. "The royal reading hour will perish without you."

Maelyn shrugged. "None of you liked it much, anyway."

"I liked it," Heidel said. "But I can't force the others. They listened to you."

Coralina sat at the foot of the bed, her unbrushed hair looking like a ravaged bird's nest. Her eyes showed signs of recent crying. "You would've been the better queen, Mae," she said in a dull voice. "I don't even like it much. Talking to stuffy ambassadors and scheming monarchs. Discussing tax and trade and... war? That isn't me."

Maelyn smiled kindly. "You'll learn quickly, Coco. You're smart."

Coralina scowled.

A few sisters tried a brightening tone. Lace offered to make a stunning wedding gown. Jaedis promised to visit often and keep Maelyn abreast of the news from home. Ivy agreed to paint a mural in Maelyn's new bedchamber. Only Arialain, scrunched at the foot of the bed, stayed aloof.

"When are you leaving?" she finally asked.

"Noon." Maelyn said, having no doubt Arialain would fly back to Tofer before her carriage had covered the first mile.

"Ugh." Heidel rolled her eyes. "Uncle Jarrod wants a cask of mulberry wine for the journey. It's my last one!"

"Do we have anything else?" Maelyn asked.

Heidel shrugged. "Some mead. Hagberry wine, which he hates, and ale, of course." She bit her lip. "And a small barrel of lumen wine."

Maelyn's eyes widened. "We have lumen wine?"

Heidel grinned. "From a traveling merchant. I nearly gave the crown off my head for it."

Maelyn was amazed. Lumen fruit grew in the canopies of the trees several hundred feet above the ground. Smooth, dark fruit, like a cherry, but growing to the size of a peach. But since the lumens could not be climbed, their fruit could not be picked, and when it fell it smashed into worthless pulp. A piece of unbroken fruit was extremely rare and wine was nearly unheard of. Only once, in her childhood, did she remember her parents drinking it....

Maelyn's fingers stroked the cover of The Devious Damsel resting against her thigh. For a long moment, she sat quietly. "Give Uncle Jarrod the lumen wine."

Heidel's cheeks flared red as her hair. "I'd rather die from... flesh-eating insects!"

"Even so, I want him to have it."

"Maelyn, you're mad!" Coralina said. "We've never even tasted it! We should keep it for a special event—like your wedding!"

"No. Uncle Jarrod gets the lumen wine. That's an order," Maelyn said. "My last order."