Back in my room, I was looking glumly at the backs of my books, wondering which ones I should try next, when there was a knock. I hoped it was Gwen, come to apologize for the dry donuts, but to my surprise it was Dominic, the royal heir.

He lowered his umbrella and pulled off his coat. He looked around my study for a moment in silence, paused for a longer look at my diploma, and closed the door behind him. “May I sit down?”

“Please do,” I said, wondering what he could want.

He planted his solid body in a chair by the window, set his elbow firmly on the arm, and leaned his chin on a massive fist. “I’ve come to talk to you about your duties.”

This was it. I knew my problem wasn’t the rain or the lack of crullers. I had spent two days on vacation, but now I was going to have to start work on projects I didn’t think I could do. I tried to look intelligent and alert.

Surprisingly, he hesitated for a moment before beginning. “You’re an outsider,” he said at last-something I already knew! — ”and maybe I shouldn’t prejudice your mind with too many details. But you have to know one thing now. The king is under a spell.”

This was not at all what I had expected. “Under a spell? What sort? I talked to him in the rose garden yesterday afternoon, and he never said anything about it.”

“He wouldn’t have, of course. He doesn’t realize it himself. But the spell was one of the major reasons we decided to hire you.”

He didn’t say who we were. He looked at me from under heavy lids, waiting for my answer. “But what sort of spell? Do you know the source?”

“The king is growing old and feeble. This can only be the result of enchantment. We don’t know the source of the spell, but we want you to overcome it.”

“But that’s silly!” I protested. “Of course he’s getting weaker as he gets older. And besides,” thinking that the chaplain should hear me now, “wizardry can’t reverse natural aging.”