"Don't panic," Ashley said, pulling Gerald away from the window. She tripped over a loose floorboard, her hat went flying, and they both landed on the bed, her on top. Ashley's nose nestled into Gerald's neck, which smelled of sweet hay and worn leather. The bed bounced and creaked for a few beats before it stilled.

"If you wanted to get me into bed, you could've just asked," Gerald teased.

Ashley's cheeks burned. "I was not trying to get you into bed!" Don't think about dream-Gerald. Don't think about dream-Gerald.

She totally thought about dream-Gerald.

"Your cheeks say otherwise," Gerald said.

"Impudent groom."

"Infuriating princess."

"Be quiet, and let me think," Ashley grumbled. "I think Borin is on his way to the barn."

Gerald grunted. "I'd be quieter if I didn't have this massive weight on my chest. And your hair keeps getting in my mouth." Ptaw, he spat.

Ashley drew back, scowling. "Your mattress straw keeps getting in my hair. And what are you implying about my girth, sir?"

"I think I was clear. Get. Off."

"Well!" Ashley sprang from the bed.

He grunted. "That's better. Now, I have a plan."

"What is it?"

"We run downstairs, you hide under the haystacks, and when Boring asks, I tell him I haven't seen you."

"His name is Borin."

"Is his name the matter of greatest import at the moment?"

"Look, if someone reported me, Borin would know you're lying. I'm sure the castle has a rack or an iron maiden or a choir singing endless rounds of One Hundred Bottles of Mead on the Wall or some other gruesome torture device. He'll get it out of you."

He propped himself up on his elbows. That adorable curl drew across his forehead. Damn that curl. "Well, what's your plan, then?"

Think, think, think. When in trouble, it's always best to consider your assets. Ashley mentally scanned her fairy godmother checklist. Ballroom dancing probably wouldn't be useful. Same with picking a lock and possessing tiny feet. The running could help temporarily. But perhaps communicating with forest animals would be best. "Get me a quill, ink, and some paper."

"You're going to draw him into submission?"

"Just do it. We've got ten minutes max."

Gerald rose, "oh, my poor bones," and exaggerated a limp to the wonky dresser.

"Sir, you test me."

"I'm only following your orders." The top drawer opened with a screech. A glass vial of purple liquid atop the dresser rocked and tipped over the edge. "No!" Gerald caught the bottle in the fold of his linen shirt and exhaled. "Phew."

"What's that?" She gestured toward the bottle.

"Wane & Tail."

"Wane & Tail?"

"It's for the unicorns. When the mares go into heat, the stallions go insane with lust."

"My impression was that they were always insane with lust."

"What you've seen is nothing compared to what happens when the mares are in heat. And even though unicorns are mostly monogamous, during the mares' estrus, the stallions are known to 'wander.'"

"Wander?" Ashley wrinkled her brow. "Do you mean 'move about aimlessly?'"

This time it was Gerald who blushed. "No, like the stallions wander to seek the company of mares who are not their mates."

Comprehension dawned on Ashley. "So, they cheat." Like Charming. She curled her hands into fists. It hadn't occurred to Ashley before, but even if the prince and princesses refused to lie with the prince, he could still "wander." He'd find other partners. It wasn't as if he was too honorable to seek sexual gratification outside the sanctity of his seven marriages. How could she not have thought of this before?

"Yes, they cheat. But a drop of Wane & Tail in the stallions' water reduces their interest enough to stay faithful. Got this stuff off a traveling wizard a couple of years ago. Best potion I ever bought. Before I had it ... well, you can't imagine the carnage."

"What happened?"

"Let's just say the mares would try to prevent their mates from having the physical ability to cheat."

"How?"

"You ask many questions for someone who is trying to hide from a boring seneschal, Highness."

"We have a few minutes. The seneschal is slow. Now stop avoiding my question and answer, knave!"

"Jealous unicorn mares have been known to bite off cheating mates' ... uh ... male parts."

"Oh, dear. Sounds painful."

"Very."

Gerald cleared his throat and dropped his clasped hands over his loin region. As if the bottle contained the plague and not a unicorn anti-sex potion, Gerald lifted his shirt and gingerly replaced the Wane & Tail on the dresser top.

Ashley consciously forced her tongue back in her mouth at the sight of Gerald's taut, muscular abdomen, a dusting of dark hair leading from his belly button to his ... lower regions. "You seem scared of the potion. Does it work on human males?"

"I bloody well am scared of it. And yes, it does. Works a little too well."

"Watch your language, sir. You are in the presence of a lady."

Gerald rolled his eyes. Ashley had to admit it was kind of fun talking to Gerald. He didn't treat her like she might send him off to the gallows. He treated her like a person. "Since you're dressed like a man, I'm allowed to say 'bloody' or, for that matter, use any coarse language I choose."

"I have never heard of this rule before."

"That's 'cause I just made it up."

Ashley laughed. "Continue."

"Look, if a human male somehow ingests it, he'll be out of commission for a month. Minimum. The side effects are ..."

"What?"

"I can't say with a princess present."

"Remember? You made up that rule about using coarse language in front of a princess dressed in men's clothes."

He drew in a breath. "It turns a man's 'parts' a horrid purple, they shrink, and are unusable in a sexual sense."

"You mean they can't do it at all?"

"Not one bit."

"Interesting." Ashley eyed the bottle and licked her lips.

Gerald followed her gaze. "Don't get any ideas, princess."

"I was merely waiting for the paper, quill, and ink, groom," she extended her arm, palm up. "Quickly."

"My. Name. Is. Gerald!" he balked, plopping the requested items into her outstretched hand.

"Thank you." Ashley scribbled a note, slinking to the edge of the window, careful to stay out of Borin's sightline. The seneschal was minutes away from the barn. She whistled for Domino.

In less than a minute, Domino lit onto the window frame, ruffling her feathers. "You whistled, princess?"

Princess. She needed a better disguise. "Domino! Are you rested? Are you okay to do a quick run?"

"Of course," Domino said. "I'm a pigeon."

Why did Domino keep reminding Ashley of her species? Whatever, no time to psychoanalyze a carrier pigeon right now. "Deliver this note immediately," Ashley ordered.

"You got it, princess."

"Just one quick thing. Did you for a second think I was a groom?"

"No, I'd know my princess, even if she had feathers and could fly."

"Thanks for your honesty."

"What is 'not honesty?'"

"Never mind. Shoo!"

Domino darted out the window, buzzing Borin's head on her way. "Clod-brained arse," Borin grumbled, swatting at Domino and missing.

"Okay," Ashley breathed, adjusting her tunic. "I'm ready now."

Gerald arched an eyebrow. "Ready for what?"

"To have a little chat with my boring seneschal. After you, my liege," Ashley said, opening the door for Gerald.

"You're sure about this?"

She flashed a devious grin. "Never been surer."

Gerald laughed. "Why am I suddenly worried about old Boring?" He stepped out first, and a thrill of power wriggled up the back of her spine. Casting a glance to make sure he wasn't looking, she palmed the Wane & Tail and slipped it into the pocket of her breeches.

Pockets! It was so easy to steal stuff in men's clothes.

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As Borin approached, Ashley stood at the barn's shaded entrance, hands on her hips, tapping her booted foot. If she'd had a wristwatch (which she didn't because they hadn't been invented yet), she would've checked it to emphasize her impatience further. The unicorns munched peacefully on their hay. An audience of bluebirds perched in nearby oaks. It was one of those days where the earth clung to the sun's heat as if bracing itself for its absence.

Ashley's plan was based on the basic principle that the best defense is a good offense. Although she wanted to harangue him about all of his misdeeds—deliberately screwing up the royals' room assignments, avoiding her requests for a full report of the missing village children, mocking the villagers' problems, tormenting her ladies-in-waiting, being creepy in general—she would stick to the main item on her agenda, which was to put him on the defensive. All her other grievances could wait.

Gerald kept trying to interfere by being all chivalrous and standing in front of her, forcing her to remind him repeatedly that she outranked him. He tried to pull the old "I'm-a-strong-man-and-you're-as-delicate-as-a-butterfly's-wing" line, but it didn't work. In the end, he stood behind her. So close, she could feel his warm breath on her neck.

"About time you arrived," Ashley said, as Borin marched up to her, beads of sweat dripping down his face. After so much time spent avoiding him, she couldn't help recoiling a little. Ashley straightened her spine. Her scheme wouldn't work if she showed a hint of doubt.

"You've been evading me," Borin accused, eyes flashing. "I am entrusted by the prince to keep watch over you." He grinned, baring his teeth. "For your safety, of course. The prince has authorized me to hold you in the dungeon to keep you out of trouble if need be."

Although the idea that the prince authorized her incarceration curdled her stomach, Ashley forced herself not to react. "I grow tired of waiting for you. It took almost half an hour for you to find me. If that's how closely you're keeping an eye on me, you're doing a poor job of it. The prince will be displeased."

Borin opened his mouth, then closed it, repeating this flapping motion several times. Ashley could practically see the strain inside his skull as he attempted to formulate a response.

"Look, Borin. I am a busy princess with many royals to attend to at present. Even so, I took it upon myself to test your ability to protect me, especially after the events yesterday." She took a step closer to him, though he repulsed her like an opposing magnet. "I can say without a doubt; you have failed miserably. What say you to this?"

Borin narrowed his eyes as if suspecting a trap. "You're in men's clothing, madame, which is against the law. I shall have to accompany you to the dungeon, post-haste." He extracted a pair of handcuffs—the pair of handcuffs. Ashley did her best not to blush.

"The men's clothing was part of your test," Ashley insisted. "To increase the difficulty quotient."

"Uh, huh," Borin snarled, slapping the handcuffs against his thigh. "Sure, it was. Tell me then, what were you doing in the library that day? I know you were there.

"I've no idea what you're talking about," she lied.

"Oh, I think you do," Borin said with a bitter smile. He took a step toward her, then another. His breath smelled like dead fish.

Gerald moved Ashley aside and shoved Borin with his one working arm. The skeletal man stumbled to the hay-strewn ground, dropping the cuffs. "Careful, Boring. You are talking to our princess, need I remind you?"

"This doesn't concern you, groom."

"The name's Gerald."

"I'll have you in irons."

"No, you won't," Ashley said, elbowing Gerald out of her way. Ashley clenched her jaw, looking down at Borin. "You are under arrest for ..." she cleared her throat, "deliberately screwing up the royals' room assignments, avoiding my requests for a full report of the missing village children, mocking the villagers' problems, tormenting my ladies-in-waiting, and being generally creepy."

"I am under arrest?" His long white eyebrows quivered like caterpillars trying to out-wriggle a hungry bird. "Excuse me?"

"Can you not comprehend simple English?"

"But that isn't right at all. You are the one being arrested." He stood, adjusting his waistcoat, and scooped up the handcuffs. "Men?"

A cadre of six armed guards appeared from behind the barn. "Yes, sir?"

"You may take the princess into custody for putting herself into harm's way. And send this groom to the rack."

Ashley stood on tiptoes and waved. "Terrowin! Just in time."

The bearlike guard, toting his six-foot iron battleax, strode up. The other guards' swords looked puny next to the battleax. "You summoned me, princess?" he said bowing.

Ashley had to thank Domino for her promptness. "Yes, Terrowin. Thank you for coming to my aid so quickly."

"Of course, my princess."

"Please escort Borin here to the rack."

"What?" Terror filled Borin's eyes. "You cannot."

"Yes, she can," Terrowin countered.

"I'm kidding," Ashley said. "I just wanted to know what it felt like to send someone to the rack. Take him to the dungeon, please, Terrowin."

Borin stomped his foot. "No! Guards! Seize them."

Terrowin laughed. "They work for me. Oh, thanks for bringing your own handcuffs. I forgot mine." The guards cuffed the quaking seneschal and practically carried him back to the castle.

"Thank you, Terrowin. I am in your debt," Ashley said.

"Anything for you, highness." Terrowin bowed and took off after his men.

"I'm impressed," Gerald said.

"Why, thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have six angry royals to conspire with."

"Conspire?"

"Never mind." Ashley wended her way back to the castle, twirling the glass vial in her pocket, her brain running amok with possibility.

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