[Ann's POV]
Gale was right in one respect: the physical mechanism of the game was sound. The claws released the sticks as they were designed. The scam wasn't in the machine. It was in the people operating it. The witch attendant had hastily scribbled the "three consecutive wins" rule onto that weathered bulletin board after Lady Ovelia had already caught the final two sticks. I'd watched her do it, the chalk squeaking in her nervous hurry. Remembering that blatant, desperate dishonesty made my blood heat, a slow simmer of anger in my veins.
But voicing that accusation now would be pointless, starting a public argument that would only create a scene. Worse, it might dim the proud, happy light in Lady Ovelia's eyes. She had won her round fair and square against their dirty trick—and the last thing I wanted was to sadden her.
Lady Ovelia and Sir Ace walked back to our little group. The crowd's excited murmur buzzed around us like excited bees.
