Rafe finished reading and closed the book with a dramatic “The end.”

They all applauded. Time for bed.

“What are we reading tomorrow night?” Emilie asked her sister as they went up the stairs to their rooms.

“One I picked,” Skya said. “It’s a story about two school friends who get swept into another world and then they have to help a prince who has forgotten who he is.”

“What’s it called?”

“The Silver Chair.”

—

On the third day, Skya declared they’d been lazy long enough. It was only a matter of time before the Bright Boys reared their ugly heads again. After a morning spent receiving well-wishers who’d come to greet the new princess, they ate a hearty lunch, and then it was time for Emilie to practice her archery with Rafe and her sword fighting with Tempest and Jeremy. The sword fighting wasn’t much fun, but with Rafe teaching her, Emilie finally managed to land a few arrows in the target. When one hit the blue ring and stayed in it, she remembered to cry out, “West—by God!—Virginia!” much to her sister’s delight. She decided she would get very good at archery, no matter how long it took. When she told Rafe this, he passed on to her the deep secret of archery, that she must put her heart where she wanted her arrow, and then be willing to put an arrow into her own heart. There is no other way.

—

On the fifth day, the village of Beartown hosted a festival in honor of the return of the prince and his knight. Emilie was more than a little relieved to be out of the spotlight for a day. Although they did ask her to judge the pie-baking contest, which she was happy to do. Very, very happy to do that, thanks for asking and pass the pie. Rafe and Jeremy were fed and feted at the feast as the mayor and other villagers recounted the tales of long-ago feats of derring-do. (And yes, I realize this last sentence is a tongue-twister, but it’s not my fault “fed,” “feted,” “feast,” and “feats” sound so much alike.)

They toasted Rafe for saving the queen from the sleeper spider, of course, but also for riding three days to the Witch of Black Wolf Cave to fetch a cure for a child’s blue fever, and Jeremy for scaring off a silver-backed tiger from Beartown with his sword and some very choice four-letter words he’d learned in his home country of Engle-land.

“We did all that?” Rafe whispered to Jeremy between toasts.

To which Jeremy responded, “We couldn’t make out in the Star Tower all the time.”

“Why not?” Rafe asked, then in front of two hundred villagers, Rafe kissed Jeremy, and the cheering was so deafening that Emilie had to shout to announce that the red rainberry pie had won the contest.

That very night, Queen Skya sent Emilie to bed early. She sat Rafe and Jeremy down in her salon and read them a story. Her story. All of it. Even the part about the door that would lock behind them if they left again.

They were shocked and sad, but otherwise they faced the news with courage and good humor. But that was no surprise to the queen. She’d chosen her knight and her prince well. They might be Shanandoah princes, Shanandoah knights, but they were also Mountaineers—one by blood and one in spirit—and they grow them strong in West—by God!—Virginia.

—

The next day, they rode out early to the Painted Sea and spent two days and two nights on the queen’s dragon ship. At dusk, when the water was bloodred with the setting sun, they set anchor. Then they all made mermaid traps out of candle boats and set them floating on the water as they waited on rafts.

An hour passed before a mermaid took the bait. A silver-skinned young one with bright copper eyes surfaced and blew out Emilie’s candle.

“Got you,” Emilie said, as she tossed a ring of pink orchids around the mermaid’s neck. “Now tell me a secret.”

Captured fair and square, the mermaid whispered the secret into Emilie’s ear, then turned around fast, slapped her in the face with her tail, and disappeared into the deep.

They all returned to the dragon ship.

“I thought you said they kissed you,” Emilie said, dripping water on the deck.

“Well, one kissed Rafe,” Jeremy said. “But who hasn’t around here?”

Rafe rolled his eyes.

“What secret did she tell you?” Skya demanded. “Come on. Dish on the fish, sis.”

But Emilie only smiled as she squeezed the water out of her hair.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret.”

On the ninth night, Emilie had a dream about her mother and woke up crying. A few minutes later, Skya knocked softly on the door and then let herself inside. Without a word, she crawled into bed with her sister and hugged her.

“How did you know I needed you?” Emilie asked.

“A little bird told me.”

Aurora perched on the end of Emilie’s bed like a sentinel, guarding her from more sad dreams.

“Want to tell me about your dream?”

“No,” Emilie said. She barely remembered it now anyway, only that in it, her mother was alive and with her in Shanandoah.

Skya stroked her hair and kissed her forehead.

“Want to tell me about your mother?” Skya asked. “The mother who raised you?”

“What do you want to know?” Emilie asked.

“Everything.”

“Well, for starters, her name was Theresa, and she would’ve loved you.”

—

On the tenth day, Rafe and Skya holed up in the Star Tower and they refused to tell Emilie or Jeremy what they were doing.

“Queen stuff,” Skya told Emilie when asked.

“Prince stuff,” Rafe told Jeremy when asked.

“Bedeviling,” Emilie said of the whole thing. Jeremy agreed with this assessment, so the two of them went off to do princess and knight stuff.

Of course, the queen and prince stuff they were doing wasn’t particularly scintillating. Rafe was painting a gift for Emilie and Skya was needed to give her input.

“More pink,” she said. “My sister loves pink.”

“It’s already so pink.”

She watched him a while longer. “You are so talented at this, my handsome prince,” Skya said, chin resting on his shoulder as he worked. “Why aren’t you an artist?”

“I am. If you do art, you’re an artist. You don’t have to get paid for it. You’re not paying me, right?”

“Only in love and adoration.” She kissed his cheek. She watched, mesmerized, while he worked magic, taking a blank rectangle and filling it with beauty.