I spend the rest of the day trying to get used to the name. Gus. Gus. King Gus, as a compromise? Augustus might feel more respectful.

Who decided that maids shouldn’t be allowed to so much as think the King’s given name, anyway? Probably Alvin.

“Lurina, are you all right?”

I look up, surprised to hear my real name again. “Hm?”

Dinah laughs, ladling more porridge into my bowl. “Chew, girl, chew.”

“Sorry,” I mumble around a mouthful of bread, then do as I’m told, swallowing before I speak again. “It’s so good. I never thought I’d miss boiled cabbage so much.” These midnight meals aren’t exactly feasts by castle standards, but after days of nothing but cat-portioned scraps, they’re the best meals I’ve ever had. Dinah gives my rapidly emptying plate an approving nod and goes to cook more onions or something. Onions! Imagine me craving onions a mere week ago.

As grateful as I am that Dinah’s feeding me properly, food isn’t the only thing I’ve come for. Now, how to say it without sounding ridiculous?

“Can I ask you something, Dinah?”

“Of course, my dear. What is it?”

“Well…” Ease her into it. Maybe I’m just asking about her hobbies and interests, not proposing something utterly ludicrous. “You know a lot of fairy tales. I’ve noticed that many are about people turning into things that aren’t, you know, people. There’s the one about the prince who becomes a frog, and a monster who’s secretly a prince—”

“One of my favorites,” Dinah beams, as if she wrote the story herself.

“Yes, well, my point is”—deep breaths— “everybody knows that fairy tales aren’t any more real than magic is. Yet here I am, a person turning into a cat with no feasible explanation other than magic. So what if the answer to undoing this curse lies in a fairy tale?”

Dinah frowns. “You think this is a curse?”

I blink. Not only has she completely avoided the point, how can she not think this is a curse? “You think this isn’t?”

“It hasn’t been so bad, has it? You’re in the care of the King, who pampers you all day and sees to your every need.”

”What I need is to be human again,” I groan. “Use whatever word you’d like, curse or not. Can you think of any stories like mine? Usually it happens when the person’s being punished or there’s a wicked wizard in the mix, but I can’t think of anything I’ve done or anyone who seems wicked or wizardly.”

“You know, all those stories end the same way, regardless,” she says, nudging me with her elbow and making me groan again.

“It’s not true love’s kiss. It can’t be. There’s no reason for it.” And who’s going to fall in love with me while I’m a cat, anyway? The thought’s too depressing to dwell on. It’s not that I dreamed my future would hold any sort of grand romance, but I did think marriage and children were likely to happen down the line someday. It was what people did. People, humans, which I no longer was.

“Please, Dinah,” I almost beg.

“I don’t know that I can think of any others.”

My shoulders deflate, and Dinah rubs them sympathetically. Somehow working out the knots in my body starts to work out the knots in my mind. “Maybe it’s not a story from Carbonel,” I say. “The King’s library had books from all over the world. I couldn’t read most of them, but other places must have different fairy tales than ours. Do you think you could ask some of the maids from elsewhere about the stories they heard growing up?” No one would think it strange for Dinah to ask—whenever she’s with the others, she prefers talking about fictional princesses than gossiping about the real ones we know.

“Of course, my dear. Now please, eat up while you still can.”

I glance at the clock. Ten minutes to midnight. Grateful for the permission to be absolutely disgusting, I unhinge my jaw and inhale the rest of the food.

**

The next day, I stay close to Gus. Augustus. King. I’ll work on it. Either way, after our talk the other day, I don’t want to leave him alone. The council meetings may be eye-wateringly boring, but he should know someone in that room is on Gus’ side, not just the King’s.

If only I could voice my opinion, though I don’t know if the thoughts of a cat would be more or less important than those of a maid. On the one hand, the maid is a human. On the other hand, the cat is a princess.

Besides, everyone else in the room seems to be in agreement, even if Gus looks more wary than the others. Even before the King came of age, there was talk of him marrying a royal from a neighboring kingdom in order to form an alliance. Carbonel is a small country, humble but rich in natural resources. There’s been an uneasy peace among the nations since the last great war, but everyone seems to think it won’t last—and that Carbonel will be an easy target, unless we have someone else’s military to protect us.

That’s all fine and well, but why does it have to be Randstand?

“King Incellus will be a formidable ally,” Demetria muses, inadvertently answering my unspoken question. “I doubt we can do better on that front.” She’s right, of course—no one would dare make a move against him or anyone under his protection. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my time with the council, it’s that everything I’ve heard about Randstand and King Incellus is the unexaggerated truth. Still, if not for fear of offending him and inviting retaliation, I’d wager it’s a safer bet for the kingdoms in Incellus’ looming shadow to band together instead, rather than allying themselves with him.

“And Princess Genera is a beauty with no match,” says Leander, though Gus doesn’t seem to be listening. He’s been busy scanning the latest version of the treaty proposal, fresh off another round trip to and from Randstand.

“Changing the currency seems more trouble than it’s worth,” he says. “Will it really make that much of a difference?”

Marcus shrugs. “Incellus seems to think so.”

“Hm.” His brow furrows above his glasses. “He’s a wise man, and Randstand is a wealthy nation. I suppose he knows better about such matters.”

Everyone talks about what a great ruler Incellus is, if begrudgingly, but Gus seems determined to like him as a person. I suppose no one wants to go into a marriage believing their brother-in-law to be evil, or maybe Gus is simply the kind to see good in everyone. Still, I hope this doesn’t affect his rationale. The council’s supposed to help in these matters, but no one wants to risk angering Incellus and possibly breaking the treaty before it’s even made—or worse.

As for me, I think insisting that he be on all the currency is more about Incellus’ vanity than economic stability, but who’s asking? I only hope there’s a system in place to ensure that the exchange rate will be a fair one.

Leander clears his throat. “Is that the last of your concerns? We shouldn’t keep him waiting too long. After all, there are a great many others who seek to woo the Princess.”

Hector rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you woo her yourself, Leander?”

“Don’t think I wouldn’t.”

Demetria clears her throat, and everyone falls immediately silent. “Well, Gus?”

The King takes one last look, then nods. The room breathes a collective sigh of relief.

“We’ll get this sent out straight away, and then we can start making arrangements for Princess Genera’s visit,” says Hector. “And we’ll keep Leander far from her.”

“You can keep me far from her,” Leander retorts, “but that doesn’t mean she’ll keep far from me.”

Gus graciously laughs at that. He really is too kind.

But cats are suspicious creatures, and I am a cat, after all. I can’t help noticing that as the others trickle out, Hector and Leander fall behind, seemingly in heated conversation. More bad jokes about their romantic prowess, or something more sinister?

All I make out are two fragments—“has to be tonight” and “don’t think he won’t”—before Alvin clears his throat from the doorway. When he says he’s not allowed in, he means it.

“Pardon me, sirs,” he says. “The King requests the presence of the cat at dinner.”

For a brief and horrifying moment, I fear he’s going to try to pick me up. But instead, he shoots me a customary glare and turns on his heel, expecting me to follow. I don’t want to, but now my presence has been made known, and I am pretty hungry.

Still, I can’t help but wonder: what has to be tonight?