Garden Princess Read Online Free PDF Page B

handsome, thought Adela. It was funny, but whenever she had thought about Cecile’s grand ball (not that she had thought about it much), it had never occurred to Adela that any of the men Cecile would invite might actually
be
interesting. What if one of them had a sense of humor, for example? What if one of them was brave and adventurous like King Ival? Would she be quite so set against marriage if she met a man who not only encouraged her to follow her dream of traveling but would even ride alongside her when she did?
    I suppose I might choose that man, Adela decided. If I
wanted
to marry someone.
    But what if he didn’t want to marry her? What if he didn’t think she was pretty enough? Because she wasn’t pretty — not really — no matter how much Cecile insisted that she could be if she tried harder. Adela’s nose, for example, was a little too large for her face, and her mouth a little too wide. Her hair was long and sand-colored and unrelentingly straight. Moreover, she was very tall — taller than most men, including Garth. She was so tall that Cecile was taking her height into account in assembling the guest list for the grand ball. “Don’t worry, dear! We’ll be sure to invite a few tall marriage prospects for you,” she had said recently.
    And Adela’s father had added, “I shouldn’t worry too much, Cecile. What does it matter how tall she is or what she looks like? She’s the king’s daughter. Who isn’t going to want to marry her?”
    Which had hurt a bit, actually, and Adela had been forced to remind herself that she didn’t want to get married. She wanted to be a gardener — a
real
gardener, not someone who practiced it as a hobby.
    “What do you think, Your Highness?” said Marguerite just then, startling Adela out of her thoughts. “Don’t you agree that Garth should ride inside the carriage the rest of the way?” Marguerite gave Garth a sidelong smile.
    “Of course,” said Adela.
    As they packed up the picnic things, she considered how lucky she was that no one would ever look at her the way Garth was looking at Marguerite. The way people looked at a flower. Think what a distraction it would be, she told herself. I would never get any gardening done at all!
    Only it did make a person feel a bit lonely, watching two other people fall in love.

A magpie’s nest is a messy-looking thing, and Krazo’s was as messy as they come, with twigs poked together in a bowl shape and a twig roof over the top. He had built it in a spruce tree on the front lawn of Hortensia’s estate.
    It was here that he kept his treasures. These consisted of an emerald brooch, a gold watch set with paste diamonds, a turquoise-and-silver bracelet, a little pearl ring, and Krazo’s favorite piece, a flashy belt buckle studded with amethysts and garnets. Over the years, these prizes had been left behind by party guests. Usually Hortensia was attentive when she collected “the loot,” as she called it, but every so often she overlooked something. That was a lucky day for Krazo.
    On the day of the garden party, Krazo woke up feeling lucky. More guests than usual would be attending this party, and he had high hopes that Hortensia might overlook something that afternoon. He also felt free for the day; Hortensia always slept late, and she rarely called for him during one of her parties. The magpie spent the morning arranging the treasures he already owned, getting things ready for the new ones he hoped to acquire. He hung the pearl ring on a twig poking out of the wall, draped the watch over another twig, and pushed the turquoise bracelet into the middle of the nest, where it caught the light from one of two entrances. Then he changed his mind — the bracelet was sadly tarnished — and he pushed the belt buckle into the light instead.
    As he worked, Krazo thought about the guests who would be coming to the party. Not all of them would bring treasures. The young men, for example, really couldn’t be counted on.