She looked over the other three, wondering if a princess, even a princess who was sister to the queen, would be able to sweep inside with a large dog and a woman with a chicken on her staff. After they treated us as poor relations the last time . . . No, it might not be that easy. Agnes cleared her throat. “I can get in,” she said. “What?” “How?” “I’m a godmother,” said Agnes. All three of them looked at her blankly. “I know I wasn’t invited,” said Agnes. “That’s the point.” “Eh?” She smiled gently, that tiny, frazzled woman. “There’s only one story about godmothers that’s always true. Bad
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