"And then, when they get to the end of the first half of the race, they should have to — " Rosa thought carefully. "They should have to herd three sheep into a pen, still in full armor, then gather a dozen eggs wearing gauntlets, lay them out in a straight row without breaking them and gallop back to the finish line. That comes as close as I can think to how father used to have to organize stubborn allies and arrange all the camps before he got any rest." She thought a bit more. "I think we should allow them to use any means they have to herd the sheep and move the eggs. That would count as assigning responsibility, the way father did. So using magic or hiring someone to do it for them should count. Except that, like father, they won't know in advance where the point of the racecourse with the sheep and eggs is, and the longer they spend waiting for whoever they hired to come, the farther back in the race they'll be. If they ride their helper double, the horse will tire and that will put them farther back. We should have someone do this to find a good average time that it takes, then allow a bit more for the cutoff. I can't think of any way that anyone can cheat on that trial, can you?"
"Good!" Lily went back to the table and finished taking notes. "No, I can't. That business with the sheep and eggs sounds utterly nonsensical, and as such, it follows all the Traditional requirements for this kind of trial. We'll supply armor to those who don't have it, of course. And horses. I can magic all that up without any effort at all, thanks to all the Traditional power we have built up here." She noted that, as well. "The mice will hate me."
"Actually I think the mice will be amused. They seem to have very good senses of humor. Did you know Siegfried's bird knows all about The Tradition?" Rosa had spotted the big Northlander, off to one side with Leopold, and, as always, the little brown bird on his shoulder. The two seemed as thick as thieves of late. Really, so far as she could tell, they were becoming friends, which was interesting, considering how they had met.
"Yes I did. And I believe that she told Siegfried about The Tradition, as well." Lily gave her a sidelong, unreadable glance. "Which would certainly save a great deal of time and education if he should happen to win these contests."
"Do you think that's at all likely?" Rosa asked, feeling her cheeks grow hot. She wasn't supposed to have favorites, but so far, the Northlander and the roguish Leopold were ahead of any of the newcomers.
"One never knows," Lily said enigmatically. "I'm trying to hedge this about so that whoever does win, is exactly what Eltaria needs. If ever there was a crisis in this kingdom, this is it."
"Quite right, too," replied Rosa stoutly, her cheeks cooling immediately — and her heart sinking a little. "This is no time to be taking anything else at all into consideration. But..."
Lily looked up from the list she was making. "But?"
Rosa tried not to think too hard about a few of the candidates she'd seen. Oh, they probably would be eliminated quickly — but — "But what if the one who is best for Eltaria is...horrid?"
Lily gazed back at Rosa with a sober expression. "I don't know, dear. I can do a certain amount by making sure they don't cheat. But you are right, it is possible for someone to win these contests entirely honestly and still be a nasty piece of work. I don't know how to prevent that. I can only promise that I will try."
Rosa nodded, and turned back to the window, watching Siegfried and Leopold. She shouldn't have favorites. It wasn't right. But that didn't prevent it from happening. Rosa had been quizzing the Northlander's bird remorselessly about both men. The bird obviously was going to sing — literally — Siegfried's praises, but she grudgingly admitted that Leopold seemed to be a decent fellow, too. He and Siegfried had entered into a pact to help each other, which she had no intention of telling Lily about. It wasn't strictly within the rules, but it wasn't against them, either. There were other cases of such things, although normally the two men in question were lifelong friends, or even brothers. So Traditionally, it was sanctioned.
She had already decided that she was going to help them covertly as much as she could. After all, Traditionally, the Godmothers helped their favorite candidates, and there were all sorts of other helpers, not only Traditionally, but right here and now, from sorcerers to animals both ordinary and Magical. So if they could, she could.
She left Lily writing out the list for the trial, comparing it to the list of those who had applied to compete and what they had brought with them. This was not as tedious as it might have been, since Jimson was helping her. She would call out the name, and Jimson would see if the fellow in question had brought a warhorse and armor. If he had, Jimson would give it a good look-over and tell Lily.
Just as she was slipping out, she heard the first disqualification.
"Adrian of Beau Soleil." Lily called out the name. There was a long, long pause, and Rosa hesitated, palm against the panel of the servants' door, to listen — because such a long pause from Jimson generally meant something was up.
"Regretfully disqualified, Lily," said Jimson, just as Rosa was starting to grow impatient.
"What?" Lily exclaimed. "Why?"
"The Prince is, in fact, a Princess," Jimson said solemnly. "And while under other circumstances I would have been willing to let this pass, we did distinctly invite only Princes, and I do not believe that Rosamund would be in the least interested in co-ruling with another of her sex."
"Definitely not," Rosa muttered to herself and slipped out the door.
She had already written out what the first trial was going to be on a small square of paper, and she had purloined Lily's "Old Maggie" cloak. Now she pulled it on, used the servants' stairs and doors and went down into the garden and along the gardeners' path until she got to where the two men were sitting, watching some of the others. Leopold wasn't flirting with any of the women of the Court, because at this point the women of the Court were quite spoiled for choice, and there wasn't one of them that didn't have her own particular Prince to be flattered and cajoled by. Rosa eased through a gap in the hedge and came out behind and between them.
"Hist," she whispered. "Don't be turning around. I'm a friend. But I don't want everyone to see you're talking to me."
Of course they both moved their heads stiffly to try and see who was talking to them. That was why she had stolen the "Old Maggie" cloak. What they saw was a brisk old woman, not the Princess.
"All right, friend," said Leopold out of the corner of his mouth, "What can we do for you?"
"It's what I can do for you," she replied, with a laugh forced out of her by tension. "Unless you've no use for knowing what the first trial will be."
There was a long silence, in which, at first, she was afraid she was going to be refused. But then Siegfried spoke up, his voice a thoughtful rumble.