The Suspicious Package

Pomoroy was sitting in his chair beside the fire, smoking his favorite blend, thumbing through the book Practical Steps to Maximizing Your Spells, when he received the King’s summons.

Pomoroy thought of a troubling dream he had woken from that morning. He dangled over the side of a cliff, clutching a rope that was frayed to a single thread in the middle. He said, “Are you sure he wants me?” He did not want to leave his chair.

“It is of the utmost urgency,” said the messenger.

Pomoroy sighed, “Are we off to the King’s chambers then?”

“The Prince’s.”

“Oh.”

“The King says to bring your magic kit.”

“Of course. Please allow me to change from my sleepwear.”

“Hurry.”

Pomoroy entered the prince’s chambers to find the King and the Minister of Defense, Klavius in Prince Jossery’s antechamber.

“Finally,” said the King.

Pomoroy wondered why Klavius was there. “What is the problem, Sire?”

“What is that?” the King demanded, motioning through the doorway into the Prince’s bed chamber.

Pomoroy looked through the doorway.

“What’s that on Jossery’s bed?” said the King.

Pomoroy said, “It’s a brown package.”

“I know that!” snapped the King. “What’s in it?”

Pomoroy thought, how should I know? He said, “Have you asked the Prince?”

“Heaven’s no. It’s not his.”

Pomoroy knew he must tread delicately in these waters lest a hidden undertow pull him under. “May I ask how you know it’s not the Prince’s package?”

Minister Klavius snorted.

“It’s obvious,” said the King. “Jossery would never wrap a package in plain paper.”

“I see,” said Pomoroy. Inside, he rolled his eyes. Outside, his face remained stoic. “Who found the package?”

“I did.”

“Good heavens.” Pomoroy jumped as Jossery’s manservant, Peterus stepped from a shadow.

Peterus said, “I found the item after the Prince went on a fox hunt and, of course, I reported it immediately to Minister Klavius.”

Pomoroy remembered the decree to report anything suspicious.

“It was a wise choice, Peterus,” said the minister.

“We suspect a bomb,” said the King. “Planted by a spy from Doltmeter.”

Pomoroy said, “It’s a rather small package.”

The King said, “I can’t believe that insufferable country would dare attack my Jossery.”

I can’t believe it either, thought Pomoroy. “We declared war on Doltmeter yesterday.”

“Exactly,” said the King.

Minister Klavius nodded solemnly.

“And where is the Prince now?” asked Pomoroy.

“What are you all doing?” Every head turned to see Prince Jossery had entered.

“My boy,” said the King. “Stay back. We suspect foul play.”

“Oh?” said Jossery.

Pomoroy said, “May I ask, Prince, if you have seen that package before?”

“What package?” The Prince stepped back. The King and the Minister’s hands each went up as if to shield Jossery from an attack.

Pomoroy said, “If you would step just one step to the left, I think you will see it there on your bed.”

The King nodded encouragement.

“The little package” said Pomoroy.

“The one wrapped in plain brown paper,” volunteered the King.

Prince Jossery said, “I’ve never seen that package before.”

Peterus gasped, which caused Pomoroy to jump. Peterus had backed into another shadow, only to re-emerge and startle Pomoroy yet again.

Prince Jossery said, “What is going on?”

“It’s okay, Son,” said the King. “Pomoroy will disarm the package.”

Pomoroy looked at the King. He thought about his dream, about that single thread.

The King said, “Go on, do your magic on the package.”

Pomoroy sighed inside, bent down and picked up his magic bag—it was rather large and rather heavy—and entered the Prince’s chamber. At the bed, he took in the simple package. Half the King’s face showed on one side of the door, the Minister’s half-face on the other side.

What kind of trap could this little bundle hold? An acid bomb, perhaps? A fire-bomb? Unfortunately, Pomoroy had nothing in his potions that would discern either of those threats. Hmm. Might as well put on a show. He pulled three vials from his bag. One contained a slight yellow liquid, one was green, and another violet. He dripped a single drop of the yellow on the package, then the green. Now for the magic. He recited, “Hokity smokity pokity!” He added one droplet of purple to the package and—poof! A small plume of smoke rose into the air.

“I have found,” Pomoroy said, “that there is no incendiary threat inside this package.”

“Open it,” said the King, not moving from the doorway.

“Of course, Sire.”

Pomoroy took a breath and peeled the paper off. He was holding a flat white box with a pale blue flower painted in the middle of it. In for a copper . . . Pomoroy opened the box . . . it didn’t blow up . . . it didn’t spit acid in his face. He stared down at the box’s contents and said, “Huh.”

It was a letter.

My dearest Joss,

I count the moments like stars until I am in your arms,

Where I feel a warmth stronger than the sun.

I fear I may burn but cannot turn away.

Your love,

Veronica.

Pomoroy thought about that dream thread. This would be a different problem to navigate but might prove more dangerous than acid or fire. Pomoroy might need to walk that thread with the skill of an acrobat. He closed the box and turned to the King. He said, “Your Kingship. Would it be enough for me to say that this package is not a matter of national defense?”

“What are you talking about, Pomoroy?”

“What is in the package?” demanded Minister Klavius.

“It is a private gift meant for the Prince.”

“Is it dangerous?” asked the King.

Yes. “No, Sire.”

“Then give it to me.”

No. “Okay.”

The King stepped into the bed chamber and took the box. Upon opening the box, the King said, “Who is Veronica?”

“Oh,” came a voice from behind. Prince Jossery cleared his throat. “She is the love of my life.”

“The love of your . . . who is she?”

“Um. She is . . . um . . . one of my chambermaids. I love her, Father.”

“A chambermaid! The treachery. Bring her to me.”

Everyone stared at the King.

“Now.”

Peterus said, “Yes, Sire. Right away, Sire.”

It was worse than Pomoroy feared. It seemed someone else might be hanging by a thread.

Veronica the chambermaid arrived with wide eyes and quivering lips. Pomoroy feared she might faint when she saw who was holding her box.

Prince Jossery rushed to her side. “My love!” He explained what was going on, from the discovery of her package, to the King wrongly thinking it might be a bomb . . . at this point the King grumbled, “Well I . . .” to the discovery of her lovely letter . . . here the fare maiden blushed . . . to her being summoned.

Veronica said, “I’m so sorry I’ve caused so much trouble.”

“Trouble it is indeed,” said the red-faced King.

“Big trouble,” added the Minister.

“I’m so sorry, Joss,” said Veronica.

“It’s okay, Ver, my darling.”

This is serious, thought Pomoroy. They are both using pet names.

“You must fix this at once,” said the King.

Pomoroy was surprised to find the King was looking at him. “Fix, Sire?”

“Use your magic to turn them out of love,” demanded the King.

“Um.” Pomoroy realized he was still the one dangling from the string.

“You must have a potion to cure love?”

“That is tricky business, Sire.”

“A Prince cannot fall in love with a chambermaid! It is not allowed.”

“Father!”

“What, Son!”

“Um . . .” Prince Jossery looked at the ground.

The King said, “Undo this unholy love now.”

The young couple clung to each other and looked at Pomoroy as if he was an approaching tempest. He supposed he was.

Pomoroy thought now might be a good time to review his priorities. He wrote down a list years ago to help guide him through difficult situations, like the one he was in right now. There were a few things on the list that might help him, such as fight for what is right. Another was help those who are less fortunate and use your powers for good. He didn’t get to any of these helpful guideposts on the list because he didn’t get past the first item on the list. Stay alive.

The truth is, there is no magic to undo love. The only way out for Pomoroy was to walk the tightrope, so he took a step. He reached into his bag and, from a pouch, poured a small amount of flour into hand. He stood and clapped his hands together. A white cloud poofed from his hands. Veronica sneezed. Jossery’s face puckered as if he had taken a bite of a lemon and he waved the plume of flour from his face.

Pomoroy began, “The King has decreed that it is illegal for a Prince to fall in love with a chambermaid. Dear Prince, are you prepared to renounce this life, and live a life of a commoner with your common wife? Are you prepared to leave this luxury behind and find a job as a commoner? No more fox hunts. No more brunches in the cottage by the sea. No more sailing. Now, when the Royal Carriage passes, you shall bow to it, from the outside. People will no longer bow to you. What say you?”

Veronica turned to the Prince, interested in what he had to say.

The Prince opened his mouth, but hesitated. His mouth closed. Then opened again. Then closed. “Well, she could live with me here in the palace.”

“No,” said Pomoroy sharply, causing both the King and the Prince to jump. “It is against the law. You must choose.” Pomoroy had stepped to the middle of that thread. He wondered if it would hold.

“Well . . .” the Prince cleared his throat. “What would I do? All my skills are Prince skills—standing regally at balls, graciously bowing when greeted by subjects, hosting luncheons with dignitaries from other countries, making my subjects feel good with surprise visits to the market. I mean, I ride my horse like a Prince. I can’t unlearn that.”

The King looked hopeful.

Pomoroy nodded thoughtfully. “That would be a difficult thing to unlearn, indeed.”

Prince Jossery pulled away from Veronica a little. “I’m very good at hunting foxes. I’m not good at common stuff like fixing stuff and cooking stuff and sewing stuff.” He didn’t look at Veronica. His eyes fixed on Pomoroy.

One more step. Pomoroy said, “And where would the Kingdom be with an heir to the throne, especially in this time of war.”

Prince Jossery let go of Veronica. He whispered, “I suppose I may need to give up my love for the good of the country.”

The King said, “Well said, Son.”

Tears ran down Veronica’s cheeks.

Prince Jossery said, “Please treat her well.”

Veronica’s hands went to her face. She was a “her” to the Prince now, not a Veronica.

Peterus said, “She will be reassigned.”

The King said, “I expected you to use magic, Pomoroy.”

“That was magic. It takes a bit of time for magic to undo love.”

There was an awkward pause. The King looked suspicious but finally nodded. “Come, Jossery, let’s get some ice cream and forget this whole incident.” Everyone followed the King and the Prince from the room, except . . .

Pomoroy and Veronica were alone. He said, “Do you blame me for what happened to you?”

She wiped her eyes and said, “I blame Jo . . . the Prince. That was no magic.”

Pomoroy smiled. “It seems you are out of a job.”

“It seems.”

“Would you like to work for me?”

“Doing what?”

“We’ll figure it out. Come along if you like.” Pomoroy walked from the room and left the next step to Veronica.