The Princess Curse by Merrie Haskell

it. The princesses will not see you; they will not know you are in the castle. You will be invisible to them—”
    I couldn’t help jerking my head back in surprise at the word invisible . Pa didn’t notice, didn’t care. That’s when I caught Brother Cosmin sliding out the door, avoiding every pleading glance I sent him.
    “You are the ghost that makes up their flowers and scents their baths. Now tell me, Reveka. Do you understand?”
    “Pa, I—” But I stopped talking and shrank back as he loomed over me, eyebrows knit together frighteningly.
    “Do you understand?” he barked, and I understood better than I ever had what he had been like as a soldier and a leader of men, and why my mother had been so eager to leave him to his wars when she got pregnant with me. He was scary right now, in a way he’d never been even during the worst of my punishments.
    I wanted to lie then, and I might have, if I hadn’t been so afraid of him. “Yes, Pa,” I whispered. “I understand.”
    “Good,” he said. “And in case you don’t understand . . . I am this close to sending you away. For your own good. Do you understand that ?”
    My heart froze for a long moment, then thudded back into motion. Send me away—from him? Send me away from . . . the castle? Perfect timing, the sneaky voice said. You have the diamonds. You can join a convent. Any convent you like! Pick one far from Sylvania, far from the Turks.
    If I left now, with the diamonds in my hand, could I live with myself? I probably wouldn’t get caught in my thievery. I could leave with no one the wiser about how I’d achieved my heart’s desire. It was the perfect opportunity: Otilia would never betray her own secrets to expose mine.
    And Pa? Would Pa track me to the convent and demand to know how I’d paid the dowry to join? What lie would I tell him about how I got there? It wouldn’t be hard to break a promise, if I’d already stolen eleven diamonds.
    You’re going to have to break your promise anyway , said a new voice in my head. It wasn’t the nasty, greedy voice. This was the normal, practical tone of my everyday thoughts. Whatever you do from now on to break the curse, you’re going to have to lie to Pa.
    And that’s when I knew I couldn’t leave Sylvania. I couldn’t leave Didina and the sleepers, not when I might be able to break the curse—not when I might be their only hope.
    I squared my shoulders, bracing myself for the shame I would feel in lying and breaking my vow to Pa, and for the harsh blow of losing the convent and my own herbary—when they were for the first time within reach.
    “I do understand,” I said to Pa. That much was true. I had no lack of understanding. “I understand everything.”
    I just left out the part where I’d obey.
    After Pa left, I peeked through the window to see him corner Brother Cosmin, no doubt to set the poor man to watching my every move like a hawk. I sighed.
    Brother Cosmin came back and put me to work pulverizing celery seed with powdered rue, nutmegs, cloves, and saxifrage, for Prince Vasile’s gout. Every time I tried to make up a reason to leave and collect the diamonds buried in the garden, Brother Cosmin made me stay and quizzed me on the properties of celery.
    Admittedly, I had not known that much about celery prior to that day, but by late afternoon, I knew that celery juice was good for watery eyes, and that when cooked, celery makes healthy humors—but no one should eat it raw.
    Or perhaps it was the other way around. I was too distracted, my thoughts careening between Didina, Lacrimora, and breaking curses.
    And the diamonds buried in the garden, too. Adina was going to burst apart crying when she saw them.
    Brother Cosmin said, “So celery is cold and dry?” and I nodded. “Wrong! Celery is hot and green in nature.”
    I repeated “hot and green” and went on with the celery seed, glancing furtively at my personal herbal, trying to reread the notes I’d written about