“Isn’t he handsome!” Cimorene’s lady-in-waiting sighed.

“Yes,” Cimorene said without enthusiasm. “Unfortunately, he isn’t anything else.”

“Whatever do you mean?” the lady-in-waiting said in astonishment.

“He has no sense of humor, he isn’t intelligent, he can’t talk about anything except tourneys, and half of what he does say he gets wrong. I’m glad we’re only staying three weeks. I don’t think I could stand to be polite to him for much longer than that.”

“But what about your engagement?” the lady-in-waiting cried, horrified.

“What engagement?” Cimorene said sharply.

The lady-in-waiting tried to mutter something about a mistake, but Cimorene put up her chin in her best princess fashion and insisted on an explanation. Finally, the lady-in-waiting broke down.

“I . . . I overheard Their Majesties discussing it yesterday.” She sniffled into her handkerchief. “The stipulations and covenants and contracts and settlements have all been drawn up, and they’re going to sign them the day after tomorrow and announce it on Th-Thursday.”

“I see,” said Cimorene. “Thank you for telling me. You may go.”

The lady-in-waiting left, and Cimorene went to see her parents. They were annoyed and a little embarrassed to find that Cimorene had discovered their plans, but they were still very firm about it. “We were going to tell you tomorrow, when we signed the papers,” her father said.

“We knew you’d be pleased, dear,” her mother said, nodding. “He’s such a good-looking boy.”

“But I don’t want to marry Prince Therandil,” Cim­orene said.

“Well, it’s not exactly a brilliant match,” Cimorene’s father said, frowning. “But I didn’t think you’d care how big his kingdom is.”

“It’s the prince I don’t care for,” Cimorene said.

“That’s a great pity, dear, but it can’t be helped,” Cim­orene’s mother said placidly. “I’m afraid it isn’t likely that you’ll get another offer.”

“Then I won’t get married at all.”

Both her parents looked slightly shocked. “My dear Cimorene!” said her father. “That’s out of the question. You’re a princess; it simply isn’t done.”

“I’m too young to get married!”

“Your Great-Aunt Rose was married at sixteen,” her mother pointed out. “One really can’t count all those years she spent asleep under that dreadful fairy’s curse.”

“I won’t marry the prince of Sathem-by-the-Mountains!” Cimorene said desperately. “It isn’t proper!”

“What?” said both her parents together.

“He hasn’t rescued me from a giant or an ogre or freed me from a magic spell,” Cimorene said.

Both her parents looked uncomfortable. “Well, no,” said Cimorene’s father. “It’s a bit late to start arranging it, but we might be able to manage something.”