That night, Elle ate her dinner alone at the kitchen table, listening to her stepmother and stepsisters in the dining room. The first time Salvia banished her from the dinner table—“It isn’t proper for our slave to eat with us,” she’d stated—Elle had cried hot, angry tears while eating alone. These days, she was grateful for any time away from Salvia and Meredith. If she could just block out their conversation, her mealtimes would be almost perfect. Unfortunately, the door had to be left open in case Elle was needed for something. Stars forbid Meredith might have to refill her own glass, or dish her own second helping from the hot plate on the sideboard, or wipe her own darn face when she spilled gravy on her chin.

Elle snickered at that last thought. If Meredith ever reached the point where she asked Elle to wipe her face, she would end up with a lot more than gravy on it. Then, of course, there would be consequences. Sienna would have to pay for Elle’s disobedience. Elle sighed as she chewed slowly on a mouthful of peas. It wouldn’t be worth it.

The annoying pop song Meredith used as her phone’s ringtone interrupted Elle’s thoughts, followed by someone coughing and then a repeated smacking sound. Elle paused with her fork halfway to her mouth but didn’t move from her seat. She’d made the mistake of returning to the dining room unbidden before. If someone needed her help, they would call for her.

The coughing and smacking ended. “It’s Quentin,” Meredith spluttered over the sound of her phone ringing. “One of Martin’s friends.”

Goosebumps rose across Elle’s arms at the mention of Martin’s name. He was the target of Salvia and Meredith’s most recent con. The young man Elle had been forced to use her memory-wiping ability on.

“So don’t answer it,” Sienna said.

“I have to answer it!” Meredith hissed. “It’ll be suspicious if I just ignore him from now on.” She cleared her throat. The ringing stopped, and her voice dripped syrup as she said, “Hello?”

Elle stood quietly, picked up her plate, and moved closer to the door. After angling herself so she could see Meredith through the doorway, she pierced a roast potato with her fork and nibbled on it as she watched.

“Oh, yes, Quentin. Hi. How are you?” Meredith smiled her flirty smile and dragged her hand through her shiny red hair, as if Quentin were in the room and could be seduced by her charms. “Oh my goodness, really? And he doesn’t know how he ended up there?” Meredith lowered her hand, an expression of fake horror encompassing her features. “He doesn’t remember me either? Well, I mean, we weren’t together for very long, so it’s not as though—Wait, he was what?” Her tone climbed a few notches. “Propose? Are you sure?” Another moment passed as she listened. Salvia and Sienna watched her in silence. “I think you’ve got that wrong. I mean, we really weren’t—My idea? He said I wanted to get married?” Meredith laughed. “No way, I am not ready for that. If Martin told you anything about marriage, it was totally his idea. And he—Oh, wow, his grandmother’s ring?” She gasped, placing a hand over her mouth. “Oh no, he must have been robbed.” Elle almost rolled her eyes. Of course poor Martin had been robbed. Meredith was the one who’d done it. “Well, yes, I could come to the hospital and see if it sparks his memory. But, I mean, the last time I saw him, we actually ended things, so even if he does remember me, I’m not sure he’d be happy to see—” She played with her fork, listening for another few moments. “Yes, certainly, I can come through tomorrow morning. I’ll see you then.” She ended the call and let out a groan.

“I assume someone found Martin behind that bar,” Salvia said.

“Yes, and now he’s in hospital with no memory of the past three months. His stupid friends think maybe it’ll help if he sees me.” Meredith dropped her phone on the table and let out a dramatic sigh. “This is why we don’t do this sort of con very often. We have to get too involved in a person’s life. Too many other people to deal with afterwards.”

“It’ll be fine,” Salvia assured her. “Elle!” she shouted, and Elle took a hasty step backward before anyone noticed her watching through the doorway. “More roast beef and gravy,” Salvia called. Elle lowered her plate to the kitchen table before hurrying into the dining room. With the aid of an oven mitt, she lifted the platter of roast beef from the hot tray and brought it to Salvia’s side.

“I know it’ll be fine,” Meredith said as Salvia used her magic to transfer a few pieces of meat onto her plate. “Martin won’t remember me, and I can explain the rest away. I’ll tell his friends that he became obsessive after I tried to break up with him. He insisted we were meant to be together, and that’s why he was telling people stories about proposing to me.”

“Sounds good,” Salvia said. “And the gravy, Elle,” she added with a snap of her fingers. “How many times do I have to ask?”

“My point, Mom,” Meredith continued as Elle returned the platter to the hot tray and grabbed the small gravy jug, “is that we need to let enough time pass before we do this particular con again. People will grow suspicious if too many young men end up losing their memories after telling their friends and families they’re about to propose to Meredith Leroux.”

“Of course, and that’s why we have a different one lined up for—That’s enough, Elle! My goodness, do you want to drown my plate?”

“I’m sorry,” Elle muttered, stepping away quickly as she imagined drowning Salvia instead.

“Ugh, another con already?” Meredith complained. “But we just finished one. Can’t I have a break?”

“Actually, I was thinking Sienna could do this one.”

Sienna’s hand jerked, knocking her knife to the floor. She bent hastily to retrieve it. “Um, what was that?” she asked as she straightened.

“It’s about time you started adding to the income of this household.”

“But—I—uh—”

“There’s that nice exchange student who’s taken a liking to you. Elon, is it? He’s related to the royal family on that tiny little island he comes from, correct?”

“By, um, by marriage, I think,” Sienna said faintly.

“Same thing,” Salvia said. “My research tells me he comes from a very wealthy family. I’m sure you can steal something of value from him.”

Sienna’s grip tightened on her knife. Elle shook her head, hoping Sienna would notice. Don’t argue now, she wanted to tell her. Salvia won’t listen. We can come up with a way to avoid this later. Sienna’s eyes flicked toward Elle before returning to her plate. She cleared her throat. “Um, of course. Just—just let me know what I need to do.”

“Ha, what a joke,” Meredith retorted. “I’m sure he’ll see right through you.”

“Meredith, that isn’t very supportive of you,” Salvia said, but her lips were turned up in an amused smile.

Sienna opened her mouth, clamped it shut, then opened it again. “Elle, can you please get me some, uh, some more juice. And I think I need more gravy. And another roast potato. They’re so delicious.” Elle nodded and returned to the sideboard, recognizing Sienna’s numerous requests for what they were: a plea to not be left alone right now with her horrid mother and sister.

“Oh my stars, I know what I can wish for!” Meredith exclaimed, slapping her hand down on the table. “You know, with the wish Martin gave me.” With the pitcher of juice in her hand, Elle turned in time to see Meredith leaning forward with a crazed gleam in her eyes. “It’s so simple, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. I’ll wish—wait for it—for the prince to marry me.”

“Don’t be silly,” Sienna said immediately. “You can’t wish for love. It’s one of the impossible wishes. Everyone knows that.”

“I’m not wishing for love, idiot. I’m wishing for marriage. There’s a difference.”

“It’s only a first-tier wish,” Sienna reminded her as Elle topped her glass up. “I doubt it can grant you a marriage.”

“I may as well try, right? Right, Mom?”

“Actually,” Salvia said, “I took the wish to Apollo’s Apothecary yesterday.”

Meredith’s jaw almost hit her plate. “What?”

“Calm down, darling. I haven’t actually sold it yet. We don’t have an authentication certificate for it, so someone needs to examine it and make sure it’s legitimate, not some low-grade, black market wish. I’ll hear from them once the authentication is complete and they offer me a price. I can still back out if I change my mind.”

“Thank goodness for that.” Meredith pressed a hand dramatically to her chest as she sighed. Elle made a superb effort at keeping her eyeballs pointed forward instead of rolling them toward the ceiling. She moved to the sideboard and swapped the juice pitcher for the gravy jug and the dish of potatoes.

“But remember, Meredith,” Salvia added, “that we decided the wish would be worth more to us if we sell it.”

“Not if I wish for the prince to marry me and it actually works,” Meredith retorted.

“Yes, well … Hmm. Yes.” Salvia trailed off while Sienna took her time choosing a single roast potato from the dish. Elle watched Salvia carefully, wondering if she might actually be considering Meredith’s preposterous idea.

“What?” Meredith demanded.

“I’m thinking,” Salvia said. Elle remained motionless, dread settling in the pit of her stomach. Sienna took the gravy jug from her and poured it ever so slowly over the potato sitting at the center of her plate. Across the table, Salvia rubbed her chin. “We just … yes, we need a plan.” She refocused on Meredith. “Some of those dressmakers I contacted will be here over the next few days to measure you and show us samples and give us quotes. And you’ve been reading every article I sent you about the prince, I hope?”

“Of course.”

“We need to—Elle, why are you standing there gawking? You’re not needed right now. Put those things down and return to the kitchen.” Elle replaced the dish and jug on the hot plate without a word. “We need to put all the pieces together and devise a solid plan,” Salvia continued. “Something that has a real chance of working. Then, if we can word it properly, it might be worth wishing for something like the prince asking you to marry him.”

Sienna’s knife clattered to the floor a second time. “Ohforgoodnesssake,” Salvia snapped. “Do you have to be so clumsy?”

“Sorry,” Sienna muttered, reaching down at the same moment Elle crouched to retrieve the knife. “We can’t let her make that wish,” Sienna whispered. “Neither of us will ever be free if this family ends up stuck behind palace walls.”

“I know,” Elle whispered back. Then she raised her voice and added, “Wow, that knife really fell far.” Though the offending piece of cutlery was already in her hand, she crawled a little further under the table. “Okay, got it. Here you go.” She reversed and handed it to Sienna.

“Thanks so much, Elle,” Sienna said, straightening and brushing her wispy hair out of her face.

“Any time,” Elle answered, climbing to her feet. She returned to the kitchen—to her plate of food that was now cold—while behind her, Salvia muttered something about being surrounded by circus folk.