“Enough obsessing over the unattainable,” she said firmly, pointing the comb at her reflection. A pink face was no better than a pale one, but at least her hair no longer looked ashen. “Time for work.”
She checked on the new sprites before heading outside. The babies, fully recovered, now snuggled up to their sweet little mother. “It wasn’t your fault you were inside the castle,” Ellie assured her. “You can return to the garden if you like.”
Sensing only uncertainty from the tired little sprite, she spoke a soothing farewell. “Everybody relax, and I’ll see you later!”
Ellie spent the misty afternoon helping her friend Rosa, Faraway Castle’s head gardener, catch another imp in the kitchen garden. She first talked the magical trap into appearing harmless and cozy like a pile of compost—an imps’ favorite nest—then, at Rosa’s suggestion, she baited it with baby lettuces.
“Imps usually eat insect larvae, so I rarely disturb them, but lately they’ve taken to devouring my greens,” Rosa explained. “I could probably eliminate them myself, but your live-trap methods are kinder.”
While Ellie finished setting the trap, she pondered Rosa’s possible methods for eradicating imps. Might she set her tiger lilies on their trail? A frightful thought! Rosa, only seventeen, had advanced to the position of head gardener for good reason. Chuck and Tasha, a pair of dwarfs who’d worked in the garden since before Ellie first came to Faraway Castle, occasionally dropped hints about their young supervisor, implying that she had more ability with plants than anyone else suspected and praising her to the skies.
“Why so mopey today?” Rosa’s voice interrupted Ellie’s thoughts as they exited the kitchen garden and descended a trellis-covered stairway into a lush topiary collection. Rosa brushed her hand over the leafy wing of a topiary heron.
Ellie blinked. Had she really seen the heron bob its head? No, it was just a beautifully trimmed boxwood shrub.
Rosa gave her a sly glance. “My guess is boy trouble.”
Ellie smiled. “I don’t spend enough time with boys to have any trouble. What boy would I want?”
Rosa’s lips curled into a wise smile. “One you cannot have, of course.”
“You know too much,” Ellie retorted in a teasing tone, “which is dangerous—especially for someone as mysterious as you are. Jeralee and I ought to spy on you again in retaliation.”
“I wish you wouldn’t,” Rosa said quickly, and her glance held . . . fear? Regret?
“No worries,” Ellie assured her with a rush of guilt. “I haven’t the time to be nosy these days.”
Why was Rosa so secretive? She had brilliant skill with plants and worked longer hours than the rest of the staff. She was sweet, occasionally witty, and quiet. Other than her Evoran accent, she offered no clues about her past, and she always dressed in unflattering work clothes and wore her hair in a long braid down her back. Since the day she first arrived at Faraway Castle two years ago, the girl hadn’t left the grounds for longer than an hour or two.
She was a mystery.
At present, however, Ellie didn’t have a brain cell free for wondering about Rosa’s secrets. Her own life was complicated enough.
“Since I’m here, I might as well make myself useful. Where shall I work this afternoon?” she asked.
The girls were trimming shrubbery when Ellie sensed her trap snapping shut. A high-pitched scream rolled down the hillside from the kitchen garden. “Caught it!” She dropped her shears and started off at a run, with Rosa close behind.
The imp stamped around inside the cage, shaking its fists and undoubtedly swearing in its high-decibel language. “You’re a girl, aren’t you?” Ellie commented as she gently tipped the furious creature into one of her glass cages. “I wonder if I don’t have your mate locked up in my room.”
That task finished, she straightened up and stretched her aching back.
“Thank you so much,” Rosa said, “for the garden work as well as for trapping that little lettuce-ravager.”
“You’re welcome. You know I enjoy it.” Ellie was just knocking garden dirt from her glass clogs when her wristband emitted its magical alert. “What now?”
A quick glance informed her. “No emergency. I think it’s from the director’s office.”
Rosa raised a quizzical brow. “Hmm. Wonder what that could be about.”
Something in her tone alerted Ellie. “What do you mean?”
“Just before you got here, Jeralee told me about cinder sprites in the royal suite.” Rosa’s tone expressed both concern and amusement. “Gossip spreads like strangleweed.”
“Great. Just great.” Ellie’s shoulders drooped. “I was only doing my job. Gotta go! Have to drop this imp off at my cottage before I report in.” With that, she made her escape.
Who leaked that story? And why must everyone at Faraway Castle demand to know everyone else’s business? Rosa knew about Ellie’s crush on Prince Omar. She must know as well as anyone how silly it would be even to imagine a happy ending for a staff member with a royal prince.
Ellie dropped the imp off in her cabin then sprinted to the castle, the cages in her pack clinking at every step. The director of Faraway Castle Resort did not take kindly to waiting, and for three years now she’d been looking for some reason to dismiss Ellie. Madame lacked the authority to directly fire Ellie, but she would be certain to report any infraction to the Gamekeeper.
Madame Genevieve seemed to despise every female member of the castle staff and found any romantic relationship appalling. Speculation was rife about her past. Had the director been spurned by a lover? Left at the altar?
A few of the guys insisted she was the hatchet-murderer type and probably had seven former husbands buried in hidden graves on resort grounds.
Yet when Ellie stood in the director’s office, returning the woman’s stare, she couldn’t help thinking how handsome Madame was. Tall, statuesque, with regular features, good teeth, abundant dark hair, and stunning green eyes. Her expression was the problem: cold, resentful, and forbidding.
Madame Genevieve regarded Ellie over the tops of her spectacles. “I have only moments to deal with you, Miss Calmer, so be truthful. I hold in my hand a note claiming that you removed cinder sprites from the royal guest suite, thereby saving the Zeidan family and possibly the entire castle from incineration, and that you afterward repaired all damage inflicted by the pests. It was written by Prince Omar of Khenifra on behalf of his royal parents and siblings.” Madame’s strange eyes seemed to peer into Ellie’s brain. “Do you deserve such commendation?”
Ellie’s spine was ramrod straight, and her gaze remained fixed on the letter. “I did my job, Madame, that’s all. This morning Sira the brownie alerted me that the Zeidan children had captured a family of sprites in the gardens and sneaked them into the family suite. I captured all six sprites and confined them in cages, then mended the damage they caused. They are currently in my cabin, pending either release or transfer to the Gamekeeper.”
“Indeed,” said the director, thoughtfully tapping the note with one finger. “Have you ever spoken with Prince Omar Zeidan before today?”
“Only once, Madame, and that was several years ago, after I spilled lemonade on his coat at a banquet.”
“I see.” Madame’s eye twitched. “Very well, Miss Calmer. You are aware of our fraternization rules. Carry on.” She waved one hand and returned her attention to the papers on her desk.
Thus Ellie was warned.
As if this warning had not annihilated her remaining peace of mind, another blow was yet to fall. That evening, on her way to the cafeteria with a few summer-staff gardeners, she encountered a large group of guests in the corridor outside the banquet hall, including Prince Omar with Raquel and Gillian pasted to his arms. Omar brightened and opened his mouth as if to greet her, but Gillian spoke first: “Well, if it isn’t Cinder Ellie!”