Garden Princess by Kristin Kladstrup Read Free Book Online Page A

of the wall. Yes, there was Marguerite in her yellow-and-white dress. She was looking up at the most beautiful woman Adela had ever seen.
    “He
is
good-looking, isn’t he! I only just found out that he likes me,” said Marguerite. “He calls me Daisy,” she added, blushing a little.
    “Does he?” said the woman.
    Is that Hortensia? Adela wondered. She isn’t just beautiful; she’s perfect.
    “My name is a kind of daisy,” said Marguerite.
    “So it is,” said the woman. “Such a common little flower. Don’t you think most girls would rather be compared to, say, a rose?”
    “I — I’m sure I don’t know,” said Marguerite.
    “Then again, I imagine you are a rather common girl. Pretty enough to be sure, but hardly
rose
quality.”
    Marguerite looked as if she were trying to figure out whether the woman had intended to be rude.
    “On the other hand, there isn’t anything
wrong
with daisies,” the woman continued. “And to tell the truth, I’ve never had one in my garden.”
    “It really is a lovely garden,” said Marguerite, clearly eager to change the subject.
    But the woman didn’t seem to hear. She was walking around Marguerite, studying her.
    “What is it?” Marguerite turned quickly, looking down at her skirt. “Is there something on my dress?”
    “Daisy, it is!” said the woman, and she raised her hand. She made a graceful gesture in the air and began murmuring something; Adela couldn’t hear what it was, but suddenly Marguerite gave a gasp. Her arms flew up in the air.
    “What are you doing?” she cried as her yellow-and-white lace dress began to rustle and swirl about her. Though there wasn’t the slightest breeze, the skirt was whirling around on its own, revealing Marguerite’s lace petticoat and silk stockings. The petticoat and stockings ought to have been white, and Marguerite’s high-heeled shoes ought to have been embroidered white satin. But now the petticoat and stockings and shoes were green. Adela was so distracted by this detail that it took her a moment to realize that Marguerite’s legs and her feet were twisting and turning and digging themselves into the ground! Meanwhile, she was getting smaller. She gave a cry that was scarcely audible; her mouth had become a tiny little thing. Marguerite was now barely four feet tall and getting shorter by the moment. Her arms weren’t arms anymore; they looked like pale-green stems. Marguerite’s legs weren’t legs anymore; they looked like stalks sprouting from the ground. And her lacy petticoat wasn’t a petticoat; it was a frothy mass of green leaves. The yellow-and-white gown seemed to tear itself apart until there were a dozen tiny patches of yellow and white scattered among the leaves. Adela watched in horror as Marguerite’s arms, now a darker green and sprouting yet more leaves, reached out imploringly to the woman. Marguerite’s blond head grew smaller and smaller until it was nothing but a yellow center surrounded by a fringe of white petals.
    Then everything was as quiet as it could be, and the woman was standing there alone, looking down upon a plant as common as any that ever grew. Or perhaps not so common. The daisy, crowned with its cheery yellow-and-white flowers, was unusually large.
    The woman leaned over to pick something up from the ground; Adela noted dully that it was the diamond necklace. The woman fastened it around her neck. There were already two other necklaces there — a string of pearls and a set of coral beads like the ones in Adela’s hand. The woman adjusted the new necklace and, without another glance at the daisy, set off down the path.

Krazo could hardly believe his good fortune. There, not three hops from his hiding place under a sweetspire bush, lay a diamond earring. It looked like a chip of ice among the leaves of the daisy. Not only that, but he also knew that there must be another diamond earring hidden in the leaves. It was all he could do to keep himself from darting out to