The stairs led down to the entry hall, with poppy-chintz-covered chairs and green muslin curtains. A vase of orange tulips nodded on the console table beneath an antique mirrora boy was required to examine himself in the mirror before he left the house, lest his appearance disgrace Mrs. Dawlish.
Titus was two steps above the newel post when Fairfax came into the entry hall, a slim, tall-enough figure in the distinctive tailed jacket of an Eton senior boy. Immediately he was appalled by his abysmal judgment. She did not look like a boy at all. She was much, much too pretty: her eyes, wide-set and long-lashed; her skin, needlessly smooth; her lips, red and full and all but shouting girlishness.
She saw him and smiled in relief. The smile was the worst yet: it brought out deep dimples he had not even suspected she possessed.
Dread engulfed him. Any moment now someone was going to shout, What is a girl doing here? And since everyone knew Fairfax as his closest friend, it would take no time for the agents stationed at Eton to put two and two together and conclude that there was far more than just cross-dressing going on.
Fairfax, he heard himself speakhis voice almost did not quiver. We thought you were never coming back.
Almost immediately Kashkari said, My goodness, it is you, Fairfax!
Welcome back, Fairfax! hollered Wintervale.
With the repetition of her name, other boys swarmed out of the woodwork and took up the chorus of Look, Fairfax is back!
At the sight of so many boys, her smile disintegrated. She did not say anything, but looked from face to face, her hand tightening upon the handle of the valise. Titus could not breathe. For eight years he had lived in a state of slow-simmering panic. But hed never known what real terror was until this moment. He had always depended on himself; now everything depended on her.
Come on, Fairfax, he implored under his breath. But he knew it. It was too much. She was going to drop the valise and bolt. All hell would break loose, eight years of work would circle the drain, and his mother would have died for nothing.
She cleared her throat and beamed, a smug, lopsided grin. Its good to see all your ugly faces again.
Her voice. Lurching from one emergency to another, he had paid no mind. Now he truly heard it for the first time: rich, low-pitched, and slightly gravelly.
But it was her grin, rather than her voice, that steadied his heartbeat. There was no mistaking the cockiness of that grin, absolutely the expression of a sixteen-year-old boy who had never known the taste of defeat.
Wintervale bounced down the rest of the steps and shook her hand. You havent changed a bit, Fairfax, as charming as His Highness here. No wonder you two were always thick as thieves.
Her brow lifted at the way Wintervale addressed Titus. Wintervale knew who Titus was, but to the rest of the school, Titus was a minor Continental prince.
Do not encourage him, Wintervale, said Titus. Fairfax is insufferable enough as it is.
She looked askance at him. Takes one to know one.
Wintervale whistled and slapped her on the arm. Hows the leg, Fairfax?
One of Wintervales thwacks could snap a young tree. She managed not to topple over. Good as new.
And is your Latin still as terrible as your bowling?
The boys snickered good-naturedly.
My Latin is fine. Its my Greek thats as ghastly as your lovemaking, she retorted. The boys howled, including Titus, who laughed out
of sheer shockand relief.
She was good.
Brilliant, in fact.
CHAPTER 
7
Benton! Wintervale called. Take Fairfaxs bag to his room. And make sure you light a good fire there. Fairfax, come with us for tea.
A smallish boy, wearing not a tailed coat but one that stopped at the waist, whisked the valise away.
Work him hard. Wintervale smiled at her. He was as tall as the prince, blond and strapping, almost spinning in place with nervous energy. Benton hasnt done much in your absence.
She didnt ask why she had to work Benton hardthe prince would explain everything later. She only grinned at Wintervale. Ill make him regret that I ever came back.
Before Little Grind, Master Haywood had taught at a school for boys. Each evening, after sports practice, a group of them would walk past Iolanthes window, chatting loudly. Shed paid particular attention to the most popular boy, carefully noting his cheerful swagger and good-natured insults.
Now she was acting the part of that happy, affably cocky boy.
The prince, walking a pace before her, turned his head and slanted her an approving look. Her heart skipped a beat. She didnt think he was the kind to approve easily.
Entering Wintervales room, however, stopped her dead. On his windowsill bloomed a sizable weathervineterribly useful for knowing when an umbrella would be required for the day.
Only it couldnt be a weathervine, could it? The weathervine was a mage plant. What was it doing in
The prince put his arm about her shoulder. Forgot what Wintervales room looks like?
She let him ease her inside, knowing that she shouldnt have stopped to gawk. I was just wondering whether the walls were always so green.