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castle gardens,” Cam said quickly.
    Dorn nudged his twin. “They’ve come out to see the spectacle, eh, Dagle?”
    â€œIs this your girl?” Dagle asked.
    â€œShe’s my sister,” Cam blurted. “She’s shy.”
    Prince Dagle beamed at the top of Meg’s head, then
turned his attention back to Cam. “So, lad, what do you think of the contest?”
    â€œHe can tell at a glance who’s going to win!” Dorn said.
    Cam took the hint. “You seem likely candidates.”
    â€œRight you are!” Dorn crowed.
    â€œBut, sir,” Cam ventured, “there are two of you.”
    â€œRight again!” said Dagle.
    â€œIf you win …” Cam’s voice trailed off.
    The twins looked baffled.
    â€œThere’s only one princess,” Cam told them pointedly. Meg’s face turned red.
    â€œOh. Ha-ha!” The princes guffawed, putting their arms across each other’s shoulders. “You want to know a secret?” Dagle asked, leaning closer to Cam.
    â€œSure.”
    â€œWhen we win, we’ll flip a coin!” he explained.
    Meg grabbed Cam’s arm so hard he winced.
    â€œVery clever,” Cam managed to say. “If you’ll excuse us …” He pulled Meg away. The twin princes were still laughing as they left. Cam pried Meg’s hand loose from his arm.
    â€œCam!” was all she could say, outraged.
    â€œYou wanted to see them,” he reminded her.
    â€œYes, I did,” Meg said through gritted teeth.
    Meg and Cam walked past a black tent embroidered with silver rams, then a bright blue tent hung about with birdcages. The birds were calling in what sounded like human speech, but neither Meg nor Cam knew what
language. Meg forgot her anger in trying to decipher the words.
    They slowed again to watch an earnest scribe interviewing a stocky little redheaded prince. “So I said, ‘Hey, I can do this. Just give me your fastest horse,’” the prince said dramatically.
    â€œAnd what did he say?” the scribe inquired, managing to write as he talked.
    The prince strutted about like a red-combed rooster. “He said, ‘My son, you are needed here.’
    â€œAnd you …”
    â€œAnd I said, ‘Father, I’ll come home real soon with half a kingdom and a gorgeous girl.’
    Meg gave Cam a sideways look.
    â€œAnd he …”
    â€œAnd he said, ‘Very well,’” the prince concluded.
    â€œThat’s marvelous,” the scribe bubbled. “Could I get a final quote?”
    The prince lifted his head still higher. “Tell the populace: I, Prince George the Fourth of Shervelhame, will bring glory to this kingdom, to my father’s realm, and to myself.”
    Meg and Cam smothered their snickers as they moved on. They wound between a dour, graying prince, one with an oversize powdered wig, and a cluster of aledrinking men in orange livery. Gradually they made their way out of the encampment.
    Then Cam’s attention was caught by two men under a tree. Like the others, they were well dressed and well
groomed. But they also seemed—Cam tried to decide what. Watchful, perhaps, unlike the rest of this lot. “Notice anything different about those two?”
    â€œThat’s Prince Bain.” Meg’s voice sounded peculiar, and Cam glanced over at her, surprised.
    â€œLet’s find out what they’re saying,” he told her. Meg and Cam circled around and came up behind the men, edging closer and closer, wriggling through the long grass until they were at the base of the tree behind their quarry. They hunkered down to listen.
    â€œNo trouble?” one man said.
    â€œNone,” said the other.
    â€œYou look well, Prince Bain.”
    â€œThank you,” the prince answered, as if he were amused. “Now go see what you can find out.”
    â€œAnd you?” the first man asked.
    â€œI’ll make my own