The ballroom was the biggest, most beautiful room I had ever seen in my life.

It was decorated in rosy pink-and-gold marble, which glowed in all the flickering candlelight. Evergreen wreaths dotted with holly had been draped over every surface and wrapped around the golden pillars that filled the ballroom.

Two trees stood on either side of the enormous fireplace, their gold and silver ornaments twinkling in the light of the flames. One wall was entirely covered with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the kingdom, which looked like a thousand twinkling lights in a sea of dark blue.

I had left my hair mostly down, with the sides pinned up. Even though we were inside, an annoying breeze kept blowing my wavy, dark brown bangs right into my eyes. I looked at the windows, but they were all closed, and then I realized that the "gust" was coming from all of the twirling ball gowns as people waltzed past me.

I was surprised to see a decent number of men standing around, looking bored. They had to be the guests' dads, brothers, or cousins, because who would bring their husbands or boyfriends to a pageant like this?

The fifty-piece orchestra began playing a lively song. My eyes wandered up the gilded marble walls to the balcony that ran around the entire length of the room. It was almost as crowded as the dance floor below. Up there, though, everyone was female and wore much plainer, simpler dresses.

"The peanut gallery," I muttered, hurrying toward the stairs.

The glass slippers clicked on the steps as I ran up and wove through the crowd. I spotted many familiar faces from Trainee Week. Emily Locke stood talking to Gwendolyn Peters and Isobel James on the stairway, while Sloane and Jessaline - who had apparently been allowed to attend the festivities - hovered by the punch bowl, watching Princess Rebecca down below.

I even saw a number of Council members, like Madam Pennywell and Madam Fairweather, who stood chatting and sipping flutes of sparkling champagne. I felt a little homesick for Maud, but I knew she was studying hard for the Bar exam.

I leaned over the balcony railing and gazed at the crowd below. Cynthia should have been easy to spot in her midnight blue dress, since almost everyone else had chosen red, pink, or peach gowns, but there was no sign of her.

For one terrifying moment, I considered the possibility that she had never even come inside. I imagined her lost or fainting somewhere in the dark castle gardens, all alone . . .

I caught sight of Kit - I mean, Prince Christopher - greeting a gorgeous brunette in a ridiculous-looking, bright orange ballgown. It showed way too much skin when she bent over to curtsy to him. My heart gave a little clench and my stomach lurched at the thought of him marrying one of these princesses one day.

That was what he needed. That was what he had been born to do. He couldn't throw his life and his crown away on a commoner. On me.

I forced myself to turn away before the tears began.

That was when I spotted Muffet, draped over a marble statue and frantically waving his paw for my attention.

"I found her!" he said, when I hurried over. "She fainted outside and they carried her up here."

He hopped off and led me through the crowd of fairy godmothers. Just off the balcony, in an elegant room filled with oil paintings and potted plants, Cynthia lay on a cream-colored velvet sofa with one arm thrown over her forehead.

I ran over and knelt by her side. "Cynthia! What happened?"

Muffet jumped onto her stomach and stared down at her in fascination. "Her eyes are rolling around like snails in a bowl," he reported.

"Thank you for that. And please get off her, you're shedding all over her gown." I pulled a handkerchief out of my handbag and gave it to him. "Find some water to dip this in, will you?"

Cynthia tried to sit up when she saw me. "I'm so sorry," she moaned. "I lied to the guards. I told them you were Princess Cynthia and I was Noelle, your fairy godmother. I said I was nervous about you landing the prince, and then I fainted and they carried me up here to rest. I just couldn't go into that ballroom with everyone watching me." She chuckled weakly. "I never thought I'd be afraid of going inside, as opposed to outside."

I sighed. "Look, Cynthia. I want to help you, but you need to tell me what's going on."

The princess was quiet for a long moment. "You know that saying, be careful what you wish for? Well, I should have been more careful about wishing to leave Indigo. I'm not ready for the real world. I want my old life back."

"But it wasn't a good life, remember?" I reminded her gently. "You were a servant."

"Cleaning isn't all that bad, you know. I felt safe, snug. Every day was just like the next. Nothing unexpected. I like being at home, Noelle, and I'm okay with that. I can take the world in small doses, but . . . I like walls and ceilings and a roof. I like my broom and my dust pan." She glanced at me. "Does that sound weird?"

I looked at her pale, exhausted face and felt a rush of guilt. All I had cared about was seeking glory for Maud and myself, and I had forced too much, too soon. How could I have expected poor Cynthia to just waltz out of the castle she hadn't left for a decade and suddenly be the life of the party?

"It doesn't sound weird at all." I hugged her. "Come on. Let's go get the pumpkin and go home."

Cynthia gasped. "No, not after all your hard work! We're here anyway and I feel much better, I promise. I'll go meet Prince Christopher." The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. "I'm not nervous about talking to him anymore, you know."

"Why not?"

"Because his heart's already taken. Oh, Noelle." She took my hand and squeezed it. "Why didn't you tell me he was the boy at the market?"

I closed my eyes in pain. "I didn't know. If I had, I would have stayed far, far away from him. I don't deserve a prince, Cynthia. I'm just a fairy godmother."

"He doesn't seem to care about that," she said softly.

"He thinks I'm a princess. He hates fairy godmothers."

Cynthia waved away my protests. "You know that day when we went shopping in the Tented Market? And you introduced me to him? All he wanted to talk about was you. He kept asking me questions about you, but I didn't know you well enough yet. I told him how sweet you were to help me move out of Indigo."

So I had been silly and childish. I had stomped out of the market, thinking he had developed a new crush on Cynthia, when he had been asking her all about me. I had been jealous for absolutely nothing.

But under all the shame, I felt joy. I told myself I shouldn't feel happy, but I did. I couldn't help it. He liked me. I was the one he cared for.

"So he knows?" I asked Cynthia anxiously. "He knows you are Princess Cynthia and I'm a fairy godmother?"

She shook her head. "We didn't talk about that. I didn't say anything about you being a fairy godmother. To be honest, I'm not used to the princess thing, so I just said you were my friend. I do think of you as more of a friend than anything."

Before I could ask her more, I heard a loud, clanking noise and looked up to see Geoff Oakdale in a suit of armor. Beside him was Muffet, who had my wet handkerchief in his mouth.

"Well, look who it is," said my best friend, grinning widely down at me, his eyes flickering to Cynthia. "I knew this cat had to be the Muffet you wrote about in your letters, so I followed him."

"How did you know?" I asked in astonishment.

"I saw him stuffing his face with strawberry yogurt at the buffet. How many cats do you see doing that at a ball?"

I glared at Muffet, who looked sheepish. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself," he said.

I introduced Geoff to Cynthia as I placed the cool handkerchief on her forehead. They exchanged shy smiles while I told him what happened. "Everyone still thinks I'm the princess," I said. "Including the prince and his parents."

"I'll set everything right when I go downstairs," Cynthia promised.

"Maybe we can have a dance?" Geoff said tentatively. "When you're feeling up to it?"

The princess turned pink. "I'd like that."

Suddenly, the music stopped downstairs and a hush fell over the crowd.

All of the fairy godmothers seemed to be in a frenzy. I went over to see what they were all looking at. The prince was standing alone on the dance floor below. An enormous group of women had surrounded him and they all seemed to be clamoring for something.

"He's choosing his first dance partner of the night," one of the godmothers whispered.

I watched as he turned this way and that, looking so different with his light walnut-colored hair and his crown, and yet so painfully familiar. He seemed to be looking for someone.

One of the princesses - the one in the ridiculous, low-cut orange gown - fell at his feet, her hands clasped to her chest, which made him roll his eyes upward.

That was when he saw me standing on the balcony. A slow smile spread across his face before he lifted his hand and pointed right at me.

Loud gasps erupted from all around me. The other fairy godmothers drew back, clutching their pearls.

Downstairs, I saw a group of journalists scribbling madly into their notepads. This moment would undoubtedly be blown up in half a dozen tabloid headlines across Finale tomorrow.

"Noelle!" someone hissed behind me. "The prince is choosing you! Go!"

"But she's a fairy godmother!" another woman whispered.

"Where's her client?"

The room was so quiet, I could practically hear ice cubes clinking in the punch bowl. I realized that everyone was waiting for me to make a move.

My feet began to move on their own. My toes were numb inside the glass slippers as I descended, the heels clicking loudly in the silence. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jessaline and the Council members watching me with mouths agape.

Downstairs, the women cleared a path for me to get to Prince Christopher, who was still smiling and didn't seem to notice their death stares. I came to stand in front of him, looking up at that familiar face, and that half-smile I hadn't been able to get out of my mind. He was still taller than me even though I was wearing heels.

He held out his hand. I hesitated, then took it, and immediately his warm fingers closed around mine. The silence exploded into a storm of whispers.

"Who is that girl?"

"Why did he pick her?"

"I think her name's Cynthia . . . she's the one who was locked up for ten years . . ."

Prince Christopher snapped his fingers.

The orchestra began playing soft, romantic music, something pretty with only a piano melody at first. A man stood in front of the violins and began singing.

The prince placed one large, warm hand on my waist. Being this close to him and feeling the heat of his body sent shivers up and down my spine.

"Noelle, I can explain everything," he said in a low voice.

"Yeah, that would be good." I wasn't sure whether I should be angry that he had lied or just feel glad that he was here. "How about you start with why the crown prince of Irisia was selling pumpkin pie in a black wig all summer?"

He couldn't help grinning. It made his hazel eyes sparkle, and my breath caught in my chest. "Do you remember our conversation about fairy godmothers? And how I hate people telling me what to do? Well, that includes my parents, except I can't opt out of having them the way I can opt out of having an F.G." He sighed. "I never wanted the crown or any of this: the drama, the paparazzi, the girls. Well, okay, maybe I don't mind the girls . . . "

I glared at him. "Get to the point, Kit. I mean, Your Highness."

"When I told my parents I didn't want to take the throne, they threw a huge fit," he said. "They told me responsibility was the price for my wealth and power, and I had to learn how to rule one day. So we made a deal. I would go to my lessons and learn everything I could. In return, I would get time off each summer to do whatever I wanted."

"And that was working at a pumpkin pie stall in the market?" I said skeptically.

He shrugged. "When you've got nothing to do but party and get in the tabloids, having a job seems like a great change."

A thought suddenly occurred to me. "If you were working in the market, who was in the carriage whenever the prince drove by?"

Kit laughed. "That was my idea. I hired a decoy to pretend to be me every once in a while. Just in case anyone got suspicious that I was doing anything other than my princely duties. Father approved. He would have been furious if anyone caught wind of the truth." He tightened the hand around my waist and pulled me closer.

By now I was practically pressed up against him and I could feel all the princesses staring at me with murder in their eyes.

"I hated lying to you so much, Noelle. My lovely, funny, shoe-crazy Noelle. I wanted the summer to last forever just so I could be with you."

The music continued, the man singing over the soft piano melody, now accompanied by violins.

The way the prince was looking at me was so soft, so tender, it was unbearable.

"Kit," I said softly, closing my eyes so I wouldn't have to look at his kind, trusting face. So I wouldn't have to see his expression when I told him this could never work between us.

The music and the singer's voice swelled.

The prince kept talking. "I wanted it even more because it was my last free summer. I've promised my parents I would focus on kingdom business full-time from now on. And," he said, smiling, "I promised to find a future bride. I think they'll be pleased, as I'm planning to keep both promises." He leaned forward so that our foreheads touched, drawing gasps from all around us.

My throat felt dry, and I couldn't remember how to breathe. Was he proposing to me?

He laughed and wrapped both arms around me, ignoring the shock from everyone around us. "Noelle, don't you see? I'm crazy about you. We won't marry for a long while, obviously. We're both really young - I mean, I'm only eighteen - and we need to get to know each other a lot better. But I'll wait, Noelle. I'd wait forever for you."

"Kit, there's something I need to tell you," I said, but he kept talking, his face flushed.

"Would you wait for me? While I figure out how to run a kingdom?" He grinned. "And maybe I should start calling you Cynthia, huh? I always suspected I wasn't the only royal in disguise at that market. When I saw you with Maud, I knew she had to be your fairy godmother. And that creepy goblin bookseller called you 'princess.' And when I heard the chamberlain announce you tonight, I just knew."

I didn't know it was possible for a heart to break even when it felt more whole than ever before. I looked into his beautiful eyes, at every tiny freckle on his perfect, loving face, and I knew I had to tell him the truth.

And when I did, there was no way . . . there was no world in which we would ever be together.

"Kit," I said, trying so hard not to cry. "I'm not who you think I am."

But at that moment, the music stopped.

The chamberlain had climbed up onto the orchestra platform and was waving his arms in the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please!" he shouted. "Will the owner of a large orange pumpkin, uh, carriage please move it as soon as possible. It is parked illegally beneath a valuable tree. If this is not done by midnight, the vehicle in question will be towed and the owner will be fined. Heavily."

"Oh, slop buckets," I said miserably.

The prince chuckled. "That's not you, is it? Don't worry, I'll make them waive the fine," he said, pulling me close to him again. "Just stay with me, please?"

The orchestra began playing again, this time a more upbeat, lively song. The dance floor began to fill up once more as several other couples joined us, though we were still surrounded by a circle of flashing-eyed women. Was it my imagination or were they slowly closing in on us?

"Kit, please listen," I begged. "I need to tell you why I can't be with you, even though I want to more than anything in the whole world."

He stared down at me, his eyes full of hurt.

"You see," I said, "I'm really a . . ."

" . . .a fairy godmother," Sloane Davis finished for me.