The Wide-Awake Princess by E. D. Baker Page B

like this.”
    “Then how do you suggest we find Digby?”
    “We’ll ask someone else,” said Liam. “There are always people ready to gossip about a royal family. Look for someone who likes to talk. Someone like… that man over there.”
    A short little man with a large belly had set up a stall near the end of the line of people waiting to go through the gate. The smell of hot grease wafted through the crowd, and more than one person was already munching the crispy pastry-wrapped meat pies he was selling. As another customer walked away from the stall, Liam approached the vendor.
    “There’s quite a crowd here today,” Liam said, handing the man a coin. “Is it always like this?”
    “Most days,” the man replied. Wrapping a hot meat pie in a scrap of parchment, he dropped it in Liam’s outstretched hand. “Some days it’s a lot busier, especially when there’s a beheading or when the troops come back from a skirmish. I can’t keep up with the demand then.”
    “Or on holidays, when the royal family opens the gates to hand out food and such. There’s never enough that’s free, so people turn to Garvey and me since they’re already in a holiday kind of mood,” said the taller man in the next stall. “People with money always spend more on holidays.”
    “Does the royal family come out often? We were wondering if we’d see Prince Digby today,” Liam said, glancing back toward the castle.
    “You must not be from around here,” said Garvey. “Everyone here knows about Digby. Where are you from?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
    “Treecrest,” said Liam.
    The taller man nodded as he skewered a tiny fried fish on a sharp stick. “Digby went there a few months back, didn’t he? I remember hearing something about a princess.”
    “That’s right,” said his friend. “She’s supposed to be a real looker. Have you ever seen her, or is she one of those prisses who never goes where she might get her dainty little shoes dirty?”
    Annie opened her mouth to speak, but Liam pinched the back of her arm. “I’ve seen her,” he told them, “and she’s as beautiful as they say.”
    The man selling the fried fish shook his head. “She can’t be any prettier than my wife.”
    “What are you talking about?” Garvey said, turning on him. “My backside is prettier than your wife!”
    “How can you say that? She’s your cousin!”
    “Then I should know, shouldn’t I? Why, just the other day my uncle said to me—”
    “So what about Prince Digby?” Liam interjected before they really got distracted. “Does he come out of his castle very often?”
    Garvey snorted. “Is he ever in it, do you mean?”
    “He’s not here right now,” said the other man, reaching for another fried fish. “But if you wait around, you might see him sooner or later.”
    Garvey took a coin from a customer and nodded his thanks. “Later, if you ask me,” he said, glancing at Liam. “He’s probably at the Castle, like always.”
    “I thought you said he wasn’t here,” Liam said, looking confused.
    The man selling fish shook his head. “Not this castle, boy. He means the Gray Castle Tavern. You can’t miss it. The Castle is the prince’s favorite. He’s there more often than he’s here. Now,” he said, turning back to Garvey, “why would you say that about my wife when...”
    As the two men resumed their argument, Annie and Liam slipped through the crowd and headed back into the town, splitting the cooling meat pie as they walked. “The Gray Castle was the tavern where that man was thrown out,” Annie said, licking the grease from her lips as she glanced at Liam. “I remember the sign—a gray castle on a field of green. Digby might have been in there when we went past.”
    “Unfortunately,” said Liam. “If that’s the case, I hate to think what kind of shape he’s going to be in when we catch up with him.”

    When they found him, Digby was seated with two barmaids perched on his knees, watching