Cynthia sagged with relief when we entered the village bed-and-breakfast. As soon as she found her room, she flopped onto the bed, leaving dirt marks on the rose-patterned comforter.

"I have to check in with my trainer at headquarters. Do you want to come?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Oh, no, I'd much rather stay here." Her eyes swept the flowered walls for an excuse and lit up when she saw the porcelain tub in the bathroom. "I'm in ever so much need of a bath."

Well, I couldn't argue with that. "All right. I'll be back in the morning."

I returned to C.A.F.E. and found Maud studying in the reading salon. She was relieved when I told her I would take Cynthia's case.

"Preparing the princess for the festival will keep you nice and busy," she said, looking stressed out as she shuffled through piles of paper. "I won't be able to come, since I'm preparing for my defense, but I think Muffet might want to join you."

The cat accepted the invitation readily. "I'll have to ask Valentine if I can get a new ribbon for the occasion," he said.

The next morning, I returned to the bed-and-breakfast, ready to make my client look like the princess she was. It was a lot trickier than I had anticipated. Despite her bath, Cynthia still had stubborn patches of dirt and grease in her hair that took hours to comb out.

"It was so much easier turning a frog into a prince," I grumbled, wrestling with a large clump of mud.

The princess gave me a sheepish grin. "I never really had time to wash my hair. Anyway, Octavia discouraged it."

"I'm sure she did," I said, for when her hair was finally clean, it gleamed like rich summer wheat. We washed her face with honeysuckle soap and I made her soak her callused hands in a basin of rosewater.

When she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she gasped. "Is that really me?"

"This is normal you," I told her. "We haven't seen dressed-up you yet. I guarantee Prince Christopher will have eyes for no one else!"

Seeing how stressed out Maud was had made me more determined than ever to help her land that seat in the House. And I had a fool-proof plan.

It didn't matter that every other fairy godmother in town had the same goal.

I was going to get Prince Christopher to fall in love with Cynthia, and no one - not even the Snapp-dragon - would stand in my way.

I had already imagined their entire wedding in my head. I pictured the prince overflowing with joy as Cynthia floated down the aisle in her glass slippers. I would be in the front row, fresh from Maud's induction ceremony into the House of Godmothers, smiling modestly while people congratulated me on making such a fine match.

"Do you really think I've got a chance with him?" Cynthia asked, clinging to the door of the bed-and-breakfast before we went out to go shopping. "There will be so many beautiful girls at the festival, and I bet they aren't scaredy-cats like me."

"You are not a scaredy-cat. You just need to get out more, that's all," I said, prying her fingers from the door frame.

"I need to get out more," she echoed, looking queasy as we stepped into the cobblestone streets. She gazed at Irisia Palace, resplendent against the brilliant November sky. "That's where the prince lives? I don't think I'd ever leave that castle if I lived inside."

"That's the spirit!" I said encouragingly.

Our first stop was Anne Azalea, a high-end village dressmaker. The owner was busy with customers, so we browsed by ourselves.

"I don't know where to begin," Cynthia said, admiring the beautiful gowns around us.

"How about picking a color?" Just as I reached for a raspberry silk gown, I recognized one of the other customers as none other than Sloane Davis, decked out in silver and snobbery. "Hello. How has your carriage been working?" I asked pointedly.

Sloane's nostrils flared, but her eyes flickered to the woman behind her, probably a client she didn't want to upset. "Fine, thank you. How is Maud? She looked quite distressed when I saw her yesterday."

"I guess that's what happens when you care about your work and don't creep around trying to sabotage other people," I replied.

At that moment, Sloane's client turned to look at me and I recognized the youngest of the twelve dancing princesses of Viridian. "Hi, Noelle. I thought I knew that voice!" she exclaimed.

"Princess Rebecca," I said, stunned. "Don't tell me you're her client?"

"I am," she said in a tired voice. "Well, I'm her trainee's client, but Jessaline's been busy, so Sloane is helping me prepare for the ball."

I glanced at Sloane, who seemed to be avoiding my eyes. "I didn't know trainers could do their trainees' work," I remarked.

"My intern is performing disciplinary duties to make up for the unfortunate carriage misunderstanding, thanks to your precious Maud," Sloane said, her cold eyes flashing.

I nodded slowly. Maud had reported the sneaky carriage swap to headquarters, and it seemed that Jessaline had taken the blame for it. How convenient, now that it placed the responsibility of sending a client to the ball on Sloane's more experienced shoulders.

"Finding a future husband at this thing is crucial. I'm sick of my sisters' drama," Rebecca explained. She rolled her eyes when I asked how Rosamond and Peter were doing. "We haven't heard from them since the wedding, but I bet they're just as disgustingly lovey-dovey as ever."

"We should go, Your Highness. Lots to do," Sloane interrupted, with a scathing look at me before she swept out of the shop.

"Nice catching up with you, Noelle. Good luck finding a dress," Rebecca said, glancing enviously at Cynthia, who was laughing at something the shopkeeper had said.

Ms. Azalea beamed when I joined them. "So you are the fairy godmother of this beautiful young woman. She tells me you've got quite an eye for fashion, but allow me to lend my expertise."

The next few hours went by in a blur of silk, satin, and ribbons. Cynthia may have been indecisive about going out into the world, but thankfully, she was not when it came to selecting gowns. She chose an off-the-shoulder gown in midnight blue silk, tightly fitted at the waist with a wide bell-shaped skirt. I approved, thinking how well it would go with the glass slippers, though she hadn't tried them on yet.

For myself, I chose a much simpler dress in pale gold, since it wouldn't matter to anyone how I looked.

When we were finally done, it only took Cynthia a few extra minutes to step into the street. She looked pleased with herself. "Where should we go for accessories?"

"How about the Tented Market?" I asked, and then regretted it the moment I said it. I was with a client. I was supposed to be working, not looking for Kit. But I just needed to see him, even if I couldn't talk to him.

Cynthia nodded before I could suggest something else. "You said you got your pretty necklace there," she said, looking at the shoe charm. "Do you think I could get one too?"

"Definitely something just as pretty," I said, trying to calm myself as we walked. I was glad Kit would see me wearing the necklace, but was it pathetic that I wore it all the time? But he doesn't know I wear it all the time, I thought. Still, would it be better to tuck it in my shirt?

The princess gave me an odd look. "Are you all right? You look the way I felt when you were dragging me across the drawbridge."

"How did you feel?"

She tipped her head to one side. "Excited, yet nauseated."

We heard something that sounded like thunder in the distance. I looked up at the gathering clouds before I realized it was hoof beats, and turned to see a gold-and-white carriage passing by on the way to the palace. I caught sight of a chiseled profile and wavy almond hair.

Cynthia stared open-mouthed as the carriage drove off. "Was that . . ."

"Prince Christopher," I finished, feeling a little breathless myself. "Wow. His hair really is perfect." I noticed that Cynthia was breathing very fast. "Are you all right?"

She nodded faintly, still staring at the carriage, but recovered once we were in the marketplace. "It's so snug and cozy in here," she said.

The princess stopped at each and every cart, smelling perfumes and admiring trinkets, and then we finally reached the pumpkin stall.

Today, Kit was actually behind the counter. He looked up from a book and brightened when he saw me. And then his eyes moved over and he saw Cynthia.

"Do you want to say hello, Noelle?" she asked.

I had thought of nothing but saying hello since we came, but now I wasn't so sure. His eyes remained on Cynthia as we approached, and a strange thing happened. I had never been vain. I just took it for granted that I looked like Mom and everyone thought Mom was pretty. And yet, today, I felt very aware that I didn't have long, sun-gold hair or deep blue eyes.

"Well, hello," Kit said, looking at me again with that familiar half-smile. "It's nice to finally have someone to talk to. The market is dead today." He glanced at Cynthia again.

"I'm Cynthia," the princess said shyly, holding out her hand. Was it my imagination, or did Kit hold it for a beat longer than necessary?

"Cynthia," he said, his lips lingering on the name. "I don't meet many of Noelle's human friends, so this is nice. Are you from Indigo, too?"

"I actually just came from there. Have you ever been?"

They made small talk as I stood feeling like a gnarled tree beside a blooming rose. Subtly, I slipped the shoe charm under my shirt. Kit didn't seem to notice, as he was busy smiling at something Cynthia had said.

I was wondering when they would remember my existence when I heard someone calling me. I spun around and saw tall, gangly Emily Locke, my friend from Trainee Week, waving from an umbrella stall nearby. Grateful for the distraction, I hurried over to hug her.

"Can you believe it's been three months?!" she asked, grinning at me.

"You look great! I'm glad you're in one piece. How has witch-fighting been?"

She laughed. "Well, my trainer and I just hid out in a swamp for three weeks, tracking down a witch. I wouldn't recommend it. How has the matchmaking been for you?"

This reminded me of Kit and Cynthia, but I resisted the urge to peek at them. "Great!" I said, filling her in briefly on the weddings Maud and I had helped bring about.

"Are you going to the ball? I don't have a client to bring, but I might just go for fun."

We talked for a while longer before Emily had to leave. She held up the umbrella she had just bought. "You should get one too. Looks like it's going to pour out there," she advised.

When she left, I turned to see Kit and Cynthia still talking. The princess seemed perfectly at ease, giggling and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as they chatted. I couldn't help thinking, as a cold feeling clenched my heart, how perfect they looked together. They were focused on each other like they were the only two people in the universe.

With a start, I realized I'd thought that about Kit and me when he had kissed me. Had he forgotten already? What had he said?

I guess I've never met a girl I liked so much before. I've met plenty who liked me.

Plenty who liked him . . . and were kissed by him? Was kissing something he just did for fun?

It was Cynthia who looked for me during a break in their conversation.

I came over reluctantly, and though I sensed Kit looking at me, I kept my eyes averted. "I think it's time for us to go, Cynthia."

"Okay," she said brightly. "It was nice talking to you, Kit."

"Yeah, same here," he returned, shaking her hand. This time, I was sure that he held it longer than he needed to. "Come back soon. The market's closing for the winter any day now." He looked at me again. "Noelle?"

"Bye, Kit," I said quietly. I turned away because I knew my eyes might betray me. They were already stinging. I knew I was acting like a baby, but I couldn't get that image of them gazing at each other out of my head. It pounded between my ears as I hurried away, walking so fast that Cynthia had to jog to catch up.

"Noelle, are you okay? You seem upset."

"I just have a headache," I said.

She put a sympathetic arm around me as we made our way back into the village. When the first raindrops began to fall, I didn't feel them. All I could feel were the sharp edges of the glass shoe pressing into my skin beneath my shirt.