Pumpkin Patch Princess

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: Olive Branches and New Beginnings

Sloane stood pointing at me in triumph. I shivered at the look of hatred on her face, though I knew it wasn't directed at me. She was only enjoying my shame because Maud would suffer, too. I tried to pull away from the prince, but he held on to me even tighter, his expression a mixture of anger and confusion.

"She's a what?" he repeated.

"You've wasted enough of His Highness's evening, Miss Simpkins," Sloane sneered at me. "Get back upstairs with the other fairy godmothers, where you belong."

Several of the Council members had come down the stairs behind Sloane, including Jessaline, who stared at me with wide eyes. To my surprise, she didn't look happy . . . more like stunned, and a little sick. Her gaze darted to Sloane and she moved several feet away from her trainer, then looked at me again, as though telling me she had nothing to do with it.

But I had no time to ponder the mystery of Jessaline, because Sloane was still ranting at Prince Christopher.

"I hope you didn't let her trick you into thinking she was a princess, Your Highness. She's just a country girl pretending to be better than she is." She gave me a look that said, We didn't even need to sabotage Maud. You did it on your own.

"Excuse me," said a new voice. "I would like to speak."

A sallow-faced woman in a cherry-red gown stepped forward, dragging a girl about Cynthia's age with her. Both of them had chestnut brown hair and sour expressions, and I did a double take as I recognized the queen and princess of my home kingdom, Indigo.

"I am Queen Ingrid and this is my daughter, Octavia. Princess Cynthia is my stepdaughter," the woman announced. Her eyes flickered over me with distaste. "This young woman is most certainly not Cynthia."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Sloane said joyously, turning back to the prince. "You see? This proves that Miss Simpkins was lying to you the whole time."

I felt his hand drop from my arm. "Kit," I whispered, looking up at him with pleading eyes, "I can explain . . . it was just a misunderstanding . . ."

"What is going on here?" the king demanded. "Everything was going so well. We were expecting a proposal of courtship any minute."

"She's a fairy godmother who wanted to trick the prince into a betrothal, Your Majesty," Sloane told him. "From the looks of it, it almost worked."

Madam Fairweather gave me a look like thunder. "Is this true, Miss Simpkins?"

I felt cold and clammy all over, except for my burning face. I spotted Geoff holding Muffet over the balcony railing upstairs so he could see. My friends from Trainee Week stood nearby, looking upset and sympathetic.

"It's true," I said in a clear voice, drawing cries of horror and delight from the spectators. They had come for a good show, and I was going to give it to them. "I am a fairy godmother. But I did not pretend to be a princess. It was a misunderstanding." I looked at the prince, who stared at me mutely. "Maud isn't my fairy godmother, Kit. She's my trainer."

He stared at me. "But they announced you as Princess Cynthia . . ."

"I am Princess Cynthia," said a voice from the stairs. There was a ripple of admiration at her beauty as my client approached us, looking less pale. "I told the chamberlain that Noelle was me, because I was afraid. I wasn't ready to rejoin the world after so many years of hiding away."

Her stepmother and stepsister hissed, but Cynthia ignored them.

"Noelle has helped me beyond my wildest dreams," she said, looking at me with such kindness and affection that it brought tears to my eyes. "I'm thankful every day that she is my friend and fairy godmother. She's the kindest, most honest person I know," she added, turning to Kit, "and if you misunderstood her, that is not her fault, Prince Christopher."