The Runaway Princess by Kate Coombs Read Free Book Online

Can’t you tell me from your window?”
    â€œAll right.” Meg grabbed for the rope and began trying to haul herself up the tower. Instead, she slipped and fell back. Nort snorted.
    â€œI’d like to see you try!” she told him.

    â€œWatch,” he said, taking hold of the rope. “You have to plant your feet against the wall and sort of walk on it.” Nort demonstrated.
    â€œOh.” Meg waited for him to come down and then tried again. It wasn’t easy. When her toe slipped, she scraped her knee and dangled, but eventually she caught her footing and slowly made her way upward, until finally she clambered over the ledge into the tower room. Meg pulled the rope through the window, wishing she were still at the pond, at the witch’s cottage, even in the castle—anywhere but here.
    â€œWell?” Nort called.
    Tomorrow Meg would be free once more, searching for the dragon with Cam. And, Meg promised herself, no matter what any of them said, this was the last night she would spend in the tower. Having caught her breath from the climb, she leaned on the window ledge to tell Nort the Short about her day.
    Â 
    The next morning dawned clear. The sun shining down on the gathered princes picked out heraldic devices sewn in threads of gold and silver. King Stromgard and Queen Istilda sat on a dais, with Garald beside them. The courtiers were clustered up front on actual chairs borrowed from the second-best dining room. Most of the guards and castle servants milled about behind them, and at least three hundred townspeople had turned out from Crown. A smiling farmwife was selling caramels,
and a chubby boy was vending ballad lyrics about a prince who wasn’t even in the contest.
    Nort had really wanted to be there. It was with some difficulty that the others had persuaded him to stay and watch the empty tower. Today Dilly had brought Meg a wide straw hat, but Dilly was still jumpy. “That’s one of the guards! He’ll see you!” she told Meg, scooting into the man’s line of sight.
    â€œWill you stop worrying ?”
    â€œEven if someone sees her, they’ll think she looks familiar, that’s all,” Cam reassured Dilly. Meg stroked her cotton skirt, pleased at how easily she could go from one world to another.
    â€œYou’re right.” Dilly stared up at the dais where the queen sat, fresh and fragile as a poppy. “You know,” she said to Meg, “your mother would have been just the type to pine romantically in a tower. Or that frilly cousin of yours, Sonilia.”
    â€œShe married a duke,” Meg informed Cam.
    Cam was watching the princes. “The prime minister went around collecting the entry fees last night,” Cam said.
    â€œEntry fees?” Meg asked, startled.
    Cam nodded. “He seemed awfully happy about it.”
    A trumpet blared. A baby wailed. Everyone turned their eyes to the dais, cheering as King Stromgard stepped forward. The king proclaimed, “I welcome you all on this historic day—noble contestants, members of
the royal court, good people of Crown, and other guests. My prime minister will now set forth the rules of the contest.”
    Meg felt an odd twinge, standing with the crowd as if her mother and father were strangers. Just then Garald moved to the king’s side, bearing a scroll. Meg made a face, distracted from her feelings.
    The prime minister’s voice sounded thin after the king’s rich tones. “Be it known that the one who will be named Champion of Greeve must slay the dragon and bring back its treasure to enrich our kingdom, rid our wood of the most foul witch, and capture the notorious bandit Rodolfo and his men. Lastly, after said prince has completed these three tasks”—Garald looked around sternly—“if he can carefully bring the Princess Margaret down from her tower, he will win the prize: half the kingdom and the princess’s hand in