Servants watched open-mouthed as we marched through the corridors: a crazy-looking woman holding dishes of goop, a girl carrying a giant frog, and a cat staring them down as he passed.

When we approached the doors of the dining hall, Maud burst right in without ceremony.

My first glimpse of the king and queen showed me that he was broad-shouldered with an impressive beard, and she was glamorous with waves of shining black hair.

Daphne sat on her father's right, next to two little boys. They all stared at us in shock.

The queen recovered enough to throw us a haughty glare. "What in the name of heaven is this, Maud? How dare you barge in on our family meal?"

"Young lady, sit down!" the king barked at Daphne, who had jumped out of her chair.

"Apologies, Your Majesties, but we need to do this now," Maud said.

"Are these the last two? Should I try them now?" The princess looked at the two dishes, smacking her lips in preparation.

"Try what? What is going on?" her father demanded.

"I've told you again and again, Father, that I'll marry no one but Prince Alfonso," Daphne declared. "So no more talk of me going husband-hunting at that stupid ball in Irisia."

The queen looked appalled. "Really, darling, stop discussing our family's private business in front of these . . ."

Daphne ignored her. "What a load of horse chips. It's just going to be a bunch of girls fainting and throwing undergarments at Prince Christopher all night."

Her mother gasped, fanning herself with a napkin.

"Watch your language, Princess," the king said, pointing a stern finger at his daughter.

Daphne ignored him, swiping her finger in the first dish. She smeared her mouth with the goop as her family looked on in horror.

"Wow! She looks like a sprite!" exclaimed one of the boys.

"Or a goblin. I think goblins have purple faces," the other boy said.

"Actually, they're pale green," I told them. They looked up at me in awe.

"Boys, that is enough!" the queen snapped. "Maud, what is my daughter putting on her face? I'm going to have to report this to C.A.F.E, you know. Daphne! What are you . . .?!"

The princess had just plucked the frog from me and given him a huge kiss.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. I picked up Muffet, who squeezed my arm between his front paws. Maud was gripping the table so hard her knuckles had turned white.

Then, suddenly, Daphne squealed, nearly dropping Alfonso.

"What?! What!?" Maud rushed forward. Whatever she saw made her pump her fist in the air. "Yes! YES!"

Muffet nearly clawed me in his excitement to get to the frog. We peered over Daphne's shoulder at Alfonso, who looked a little . . . different. His legs had changed from their usual purplish-green color to a more palatable tan, almost like the color of . . .

"Skin!" Maud shrieked. "Kiss him again, Daphne! Give him a big wet one right there!" By this time, all members of the royal family were on their feet, straining to see. Even the servants were craning their necks. Daphne kissed Alfonso again, and this time he grew a little bit. Black hairs began sprouting from his head.

"What the . . ." the king murmured.

"Not to worry, Sire. Your daughter's just breaking her fiancé's curse," Maud told him. "Again, Daphne!"

The frog had grown so heavy that Daphne had to put him on the ground before kissing him again. This time, there was a noise like an explosion and clouds of sparkling pale pink filled the room. There, sitting on the floor as naked as a newborn, was a good-looking young man with olive skin and thick, wavy dark hair.

The queen screamed and fainted, and the servants – who had been watching with glee, never having had so much fun at dinner before – rushed to her aid.

"Quick, give him a napkin to cover himself up!" Maud cried.

The two little princes fell all over themselves to hand their napkins to the newcomer.

Alfonso the not-so-frog-boy stumbled to his feet, clutching the napkins to his front and backside. "Daphne?" His deep voice was as unlike a ribbit as anything I had ever heard.

The princess burst into tears and threw herself at him.

"Get this boy some clothes. NOW!" the king barked at a nearby servant.

"Our daughter . . . our daughter is hugging a naked man at the dinner table," the queen said weakly, still lying on the floor.

Maud leaned against the table with cheerful exhaustion. "Well," she said. "We did it."

And then she collapsed.

When the royal physician told Maud to rest for two weeks, she threw a fit. "I have too much work to do!" she ranted. "I have to prepare for my defense and I have clients waiting!"

The king and queen, grateful to Maud for working herself to the bone to take their daughter off their hands, showered her with apologetic attention, but she was having none of it. She had been confined to our room for four days and was as restless as a caged bear.

"I have no time to lie in bed," she said, but the moment she lifted her head from the pillow, she set it back down with a groan. "I'm so dizzy. How can I work like this?"

"Maud N. Lee, I told you to eat and take better care of yourself," I said severely, tucking the sheets in around her. "You wouldn't listen, so you'll just have to wait until you recover."

Muffet curled around her feverish head. "She's got a point. If you get up before you're well, you may be off your feet for even longer."

Maud looked miserable. Even the pink spikes in her hair had faded.

To cheer her up, Alfonso came to visit her every evening. He held her hand between his two big ones, patting it worriedly.

"Did you have dinner yet, Maud? Can I get you anything?"

"Yes. Noelle all but forced it down my throat." She looked at me with grudging affection.

The one thing that hadn't changed about Alfonso was the look of disapproval he saved just for me. "Noelle, you have to be more patient with Maud."

"Calm down," I told him. "A few square meals and she'll be back to normal in no time."

"I think you should stay here a while longer," the frog prince told Maud. "You can help with the wedding plans and maybe send Noelle on to your next client."

"Prince Alfonso is right, Maud. And I will of course stay to keep you company," Muffet offered. He was much happier now that the king and queen let us join them for meals in the great hall. Daphne's brothers had taken a shine to him and had even convinced their parents to send out for strawberry yogurt.

I nodded eagerly. "Why don't I go to Citria and deliver that letter for you, Maud?"

Although it took some convincing, she finally agreed. "It's just an hour to the border. But I still don't feel comfortable having you travel alone. Muffet, maybe you'd better go with her."

"Maud, please. I'll be fine," I said. "I wrote to Geoff and he'll be expecting me."

"Well, all right," she conceded.

The following afternoon, I left in the rusty carriage, bumping along through the woods to the border between Heliotropia and Citria. Maud's grandmother's letter was safe in my pocket. I was to deliver it to her friends at the Inn of the Seven Dwarves and had brought my bags with me, since I would be staying the night there. Maud wouldn't hear of me traveling alone after sunset.

About three-quarters of the way into the trip, I was happily nibbling candy and tingling with excitement at my first solo mission when I heard a strange cracking sound. I thought we had run over a branch or something, but moments later, there was more cracking and the carriage slammed to a halt. We landed at an angle and I nearly fell face-first into the seat across from me.

I poked my head out the window and saw one of the horses looking back at me with mingled confusion and distress. I jumped out to check on them, but they looked fine, so I got down on the ground and peered beneath the carriage.

One of the back wheels had come off its rusty bolt and snapped in half. The front wheel on the same side was now taking all of the weight and looked ready to crumble itself.

"Great. Just great," I muttered.

I contemplated unhitching a horse and riding for help, but I didn't want to just leave the carriage and the other horses in the middle of the road.

I knelt by the trembling front wheel, thinking. I had a magic wand. But how was I going to make two new wheels with something I still didn't really have the hang of?

As I pondered, the front wheel finally collapsed, sending my bag out the carriage door. My belongings scattered on the ground, including the smallest pumpkin Dad had given me. I picked it up, my fingers tangling in its curlicue vines.

The vines had always been my favorite part. Growing up, I had drawn countless ideas for pumpkin uses and had always given the vines an important role . . . shutters on a pumpkin house, legs on a pumpkin table, wheels on a pumpkin carriage . . .

I froze.

Wheels on a pumpkin carriage.

My eyes flickered from the pumpkin, to my magic wand, to the bag of gossamer powder on the ground. Dad and I had never made a pumpkin carriage. The ones that got big enough, like Big Ben, were always taken to the Finale fair. But here I was, with a magic wand, my own supply of gossamer powder, and a pumpkin to do with as I wished.

I placed the pumpkin on the ground and pointed my wand at it. I concentrated with all my might, ignoring the horses' incredulous stares.

Hollow out, I thought, imagining a pumpkin empty of seeds and pulp, like the ones we used to decorate our patch on Halloween. I heard a slicing noise and looked down to see the top of the pumpkin carving off. It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough for me. The pumpkin shook a bit as the pulp flew out and landed in an orange heap beneath one of the horses.

"Not bad," I said, although a lot of the pulp was still inside the pumpkin. I used my hand to scoop it out. "And now, to make it gigantic so I can sit inside . . ."

The horse nearest me snorted and shook his head.

Dad always told me that gossamer powder worked best in the dark. Well, I wasn't going to just sit there and wait for the sun to go down. I had to improvise.

I carried the pumpkin over to a bush and set it in the shade, hoping that it would be cool and dark enough there. I took out a pinch of gossamer powder and sprinkled it over the squash. Nothing happened, except it looked more shimmery.

"All right, work with me here," I told it, closing my eyes. I pictured Big Ben, which had been the size of a small pony when I left home, and imagined this one growing that big. I pictured sticking a leg in it, or maybe my head.

When I opened my eyes, I thought the pumpkin looked a little bigger. At least, the top of it was now touching the bush. Encouraged, I sprinkled more powder on it and repeated the process, each time opening my eyes to see the pumpkin get a little larger.

"Thought a trainee couldn't do it, did you?" I asked the horses, panting as I dragged the pumpkin from the bushes. If it was going to be carriage-sized, it would probably be a good idea to put it in the road now before it got too heavy to move.

A few more dustings of gossamer powder and some jabs of my magic wand, and the carriage came up to the horses' backs. I used the wand to slice out a door. I hadn't thought to leave anything inside for a seat, so I would have to sit on the floor, but it would do.

Next were the wheels. The pumpkin's vines had transformed from delicate tendrils into thick, springy ropes. I gathered them around the sides and pointed my wand at them, willing them to curve into wheels and be able to roll along the dirt road.

Finally, when it was done, I stepped back to survey my work. What I saw was a huge orange sphere with the top quarter cut off and a large hole in the middle, resting precariously on four bouncy green wheels. I found a few sturdy sticks in the woods, which I attached to the front for the horses' harness.

Now I had to test it. I unhitched the horses from the C.A.F.E. carriage – which would just have to sit there until I found someone to tow it – and clumsily attached them to the pumpkin. It took a little more work with the wand, but finally I got in and jiggled the reins.

"All right, team. Let's try to move a few feet forward."

Obediently, they took a few steps. The makeshift harness bent slightly from the strain, and then we were moving. It wasn't a smooth ride, since it turned out that vine wheels were much bouncier than metal ones. And, being much lighter, the pumpkin went a little too fast for my taste. Still, it was better than nothing, and we got to Citria in record time.

I was feeling pretty pleased with myself until I rolled into the village and saw people laughing at me. One man actually fell to the ground, holding his stomach, while his children hooted and pointed.

"Look, Mama!" a girl shouted. "She's inside a rolling pumpkin!"

"Make way for the princess!" yelled a boy. "Princess of the pumpkin patch!"

"Pumpkin patch princess!" his friends cheered.

I felt my face heat up, but the dignity of C.A.F.E. was on my shoulders, so I smiled and waved the way I had seen Queen Ingrid and Princess Octavia do back home at parades. This drew an even bigger cheer from my spectators, some of whom danced and twirled behind my carriage as I proceeded through town.

I spotted the blacksmith among them. He had left work to join the pumpkin parade and was still holding his hammer. "I left my real carriage back on the road, with two broken wheels!" I shouted over the crowd's cheers. "Could you please fix it and return it to Heliotropia Castle? My trainer will pay you." He agreed, waving his hammer in support.

The first person I saw in front of the Inn of the Seven Dwarves was Geoff Oakdale. He watched me make my entrance with an enormous grin on his face.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Noelle Simpkins, making her father proud," he chortled. I pulled the horses to a stop and stepped out with as much poise as I could muster, considering my backside was probably covered with orange pulp.

I threw my arms around him. "You've gotten taller! And . . . wider! How's your leg?"

"Good as new," he said, then placed his hands on his hips so I could better admire his newly beefy arms. "We've been training hard up at school." He looked at my pumpkin again, guffawing. "Don't they have real transportation for you at that place?"

I explained what had happened, which made him laugh even harder. "You really are a Simpkins," he said fondly. "Don't tell me you made a pair of shoes on your way over here, too."

"I'm wearing them," I joked. "Come on, let's go inside. I need to deliver this letter."

But before I could take another step, someone appeared in the doorway of the tavern.

That was when I noticed a shining white C.A.F.E. carriage parked around the side of the building, identical to the one I had left in the woods.

Jessaline smiled at us. "Hello," she said.