should be extended to all. But if you embraced your status as a hated woman and did nothing to change anyone’s mind, you must admit there is a chance things could have played out differently. The villagers of Wied are gracious to you because they believe you are kind and valiant to the point where it outshines your beauty. Your looks are the icing on an already delectable cake—you are their storybook hero. I wager if you acted similarly to all you meet, none would be able to refuse you whatever you ask.”
“You are hatefully smug,” Gabrielle grumbled.
“It is the price one pays for being so intelligent and superior,” Puss said, his voice saturated with glee.
Gabrielle shook her head and pounded another nail in. When she looked up, she saw Annika and another little girl—Hartwin’s sister, most likely—staring at Puss with longing.
An oversized smirk crawled across Gabrielle’s lips, and she said, in her most inviting voice, “You may play with Puss and pick him up. He loves to be petted.”
“What?” Puss said, twisting around, but he was too late. Within moments, Annika and her little friend swooped in and picked him up.
Puss’s ears went flat as the girls stroked his glossy fur with dirty hands and spoke to him in pleasant, high-pitched voices. “Traitor,” Puss growled at Gabrielle.
“It would be selfish of me to keep you all to myself, Puss,” Gabrielle said before speaking to the girls. “I left my burlap sack in the taproom of the Green Ivy Inn.”
“You wouldn’t,” Puss said, a hint of a wail edging his voice.
“If you look inside, you will find a pair of boots. They belong to Puss—he does enjoy dressing up,” Gabrielle continued.
“I do not!” Puss yowled.
“Thank you, Lady Gabrielle,” Annika’s friend said.
“I say—unhand me and put me down!” Puss demanded as the little girls carried him off.
Gabrielle chuckled to herself and pounded another nail in. He’s a good sport, in spite of his loud complaints. If he wasn’t gentle and soft-hearted he could use his sleep charm on them.
“Are you certain it is alright for my sister and little Annika to play with your magic cat?” Hartwin asked as he approached Gabrielle, carrying another door.
“It will be good for him,” Gabrielle said, her self-satisfied grin still smeared on her lips.
Hartwin laughed. “I am glad such an act brings joy to you. I feared you were beginning to regret involving yourself with our silly village.”
“What? No, never,” Gabrielle said.
Hartwin shrugged. “There is no shame in admitting it. Wied is but a small village. I’m sure you have seen much bigger settlements, my lady.”
Wied, in fact, was the biggest village Gabrielle had ever seen. Feeling like a bit of a fraud, Gabrielle flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder. “I’m not a lady. I know my cat said I was, but I’m not.”
“Maybe you have not inherited such a title, but I feel that your actions make you worthy of it all the same,” Hartwin said. “That, and perhaps the addition of a talking cat at your side.”
Gabrielle pounded in the last nail. “Puss belongs with someone better.”
“And yet he chooses to travel with you and calls you his mistress. Have you finished that door?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. I have another, if you are ready.”
“Of course. Will we set all the new doors by dusk?”
“It will be close,” Hartwin admitted.
“Then I will get to it.”
“Do not overwork yourself, my lady. I have no wish to face down Lena should you return to the Green Ivy Inn in a less than perfect condition,” Hartwin said.
“I’m fine. Go get me another door.”
“As my lady commands!”
Steffen was nursing a headache when the royal carriage rolled into Wied, carrying him and his quiet father. Steffen peered through the window, inspecting the village. The sun was gone—either it had already set or it was hiding behind the ominous storm clouds building to the west—but even without clear