“His steward his here,too.""Oh,look, the King's gone out to greet him.""With a gun," said Bramble.Everyone leaned forward."Pistols!" cried Clover. She fled the room."Clover-duels aren't-oh,hang," said Bramble. "She's going to do something rash. Well, at least we can see it from here."Two seconds later, Clover streaked out the entrance hall doors, down the marble stairs, her skirts flying behind her.The gentlemen had a split moment to look up before Clover threw herself onto the King in a scatter of gravel, sobbing as she hung about his neck.The window muffled their voices. Everyone leaned even farther forward.Clover fell to her knees and kissed the hem of the King's coat."Oh,now,let's not go overboard," Bramble muttered.Fairweller removed his coat and set it over Clover's shoulders; the King threw it off and put his own coat over her shoulders.”

“The simultaneous scream sounded from teh twins. Borth clasped their hands over their mouths, their eyes wide with horror. Azalea followed their gaze.There, in patches of light, scratched-up Fairweller held a weeping clover in his arms, cradling her head against his shoulder. He murmured into her ear.Delphinium screamed."Oh, Clover, how could you?" said Eve."Is he a good kisser?" said Hollyhock.The King had no words as he strode to them. In an instant he had torn Fairweller away from Clover, wound up, and boxed Fairweller straight in the face.Fairweller stumbled backward and fell to the floor, glass crunching beneath him."You may fill out your resignation paperwork tomorrow," said the King. "ExPrime Minister Fairweller!”

“From a memory deep inside her, so faint it only held sounds and slips of color, a tiny, three-year-old Azalea wailed, "Papa.""Papa," said Azalea to the lifeless form of the King. The word was so forgein, it choked her throat. "Papa... you can't leave us, Papa... It would be very...out of order-"Bramble knelt opposite her, grasping the King's bandaged hand."She's-she's right, Papa," Bramble stuttered. "We have...rules..."Clover fell to her knees and pressed her handkerchief to his chest. Blood soaked through. "Papa," she whispered.The girls knelt around the King, their skirts spead out like forlorn blossoms, swallowing , and whispering one word."Papa.""Papa.""Papa.”

“Miss Clover," said Minister Fairweller to the Viscount after a long moment, "is not here. She has gone to a speech with her father, in Werttemberg. I could set you up with a carriage, if you'd like."The girls' mouths dropped open. Viscount Duquette did not see."Well!" he said,clicking his heels together. "It is nice to see that someone behaves like a gentleman around here!"The girls found Clover about an hour later, hidinga mong the untrimmed unicorn and lion topiaries, weeping on a stone bench. They flocked to her, wrapped an extra shawl around her shoulders, and told her the story."Werttemberg, though," said Eve. That's two countries away!"Clover wept and laughed at the same time.”

“What did Fairweller say? When you delivered the note?""Oh," said Clover, calming a little. "Well...nothing, actually. I sort of...accidentally...tore it to pieces.""Accidentally," Azalea echoed."And threw it into the fire," said Clover."Oh.”

“The Harold Herald, alive with news of the war, even printed an extra edition the next day, and among the news of the front page, the girls discovered that Minister Fairweller had been wounded. Clover, so tenderhearted, cried. "Oh,he's probably all right," said Bramble. "It would take a lot to kill him. Like garlic and a stake through the heart."Clover still cried. That was Clover for you.”