Rose put the cake on the bed and stared at it.

In her old life, there had been too much cake. But since she’d left the palace, there had not been nearly enough.

She reached for the silver knife.

‘How can you think about cake at a time like this?’ hissed Flax. ‘The Lady’s going to steal the magic from Minchfold!’

‘And we can’t do anything to stop her,’ said Rose. ‘I wish we could. But we can’t.’

She reached for the knife again.

‘Your uncle told you not to eat anything.’

‘He didn’t mean cake,’ said Rose. ‘He meant – um, witchy potions. And besides, he’s a dragon. He’s not to be trusted.’

The thimble muttered, ‘If the Lady told me someone was not to be trusted … ’

Rose stared at it. ‘You think we should trust a dragon?’

‘In general, no,’ said the thimble. ‘But in these particular circumstances, yes.’

‘But I’m hungry,’ said Rose. ‘And Aunt Delilah told me to eat it. If I don’t, she’ll be angry. She might decide not to let us out after all.’

‘She’s not going to let us out,’ said Flax. ‘She was lying.’

‘But what if she wasn’t?’ said Rose.

The pup licked his lips. ‘If I ate it, she’d think it was you.’

‘But it’s mine,’ said Rose. ‘It’s my cake.’

And there was the fizzing in her tummy again.

‘Why did she give it to you?’ asked Flax.

‘Because I’m hungry,’ said Rose. ‘I told you. Queens aren’t supposed to get hungry.’

Flax looked at her uncertainly. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Of course I’m all right,’ snapped Rose. Though really, she was feeling hot and angry. Like a firecracker. One of the ones that started off slowly …

‘I just need to eat some cake.’ And she picked up the knife.

‘Wait!’ cried Flax.

‘What is it this time?’ snapped Rose.

Flax held up the thimble. ‘Can I cut it? Please?’

Rose rolled her eyes (which queens were not supposed to do). ‘Hurry up, then.’

‘Really?’ cried the thimble. (Only now it was a cake knife.) ‘Oh joy! What sort of slices would you like? Big or small? The traditional shape or something more innovative?’

‘I don’t care,’ said Rose. ‘Just do it.’

‘You’ll have to move,’ said Flax. ‘I don’t want to cut you by mistake.’

Rose stepped away from the bed. The fizzing had spread out from her tummy and was racing down her legs.

It was the oddest feeling.

Flax held the cake knife over the cake. The pup drooled. The cake knife hummed with anticipation. ‘The icing smells a bit strange,’ it said. ‘But I don’t care either.’

It sliced downwards.

Once.

Twice.

The neatest piece of cake Rose had ever seen.

‘That’ll do,’ she said.

‘One more,’ said Flax. ‘Stand back.’

The cake knife dived into the cake again, then sighed happily. ‘That was lovely. Apart from the icing.’

Rose reached for the nearest slice. But before she could get hold of it, Flax shouted, ‘Pup, eat it!’

The pup lunged forward. His mouth closed over the slice Rose was reaching for.

No, his mouth closed over the whole cake.

He inhaled.

The cake vanished.

Rose felt as if she was going to explode. ‘That was my cake! It was mine!’

The fizzing feeling raced down her arms and into her fingers.

I’m a firecracker, she thought. One of the ones that start off slowly, so you think they’re not going to be very interesting. But then they get big. And—

‘Rose,’ squeaked Flax. ‘Your hands!’