A sudden gust of wind whistled through the castle green, prompting Tressa's inexplicably long brown tresses to fan out around her head like serpents. Once the wind subsided, her hair fell evenly around her body, covering her face. A cluster of spiders roamed over her hair. At least she always had company. Ashley wondered if Tressa could talk to them. What use is a mountain of spider-infested hair if it can't keep you company? Especially if you're hidden away in a tower for years with no one to converse with but a demented witch.

"Stupid wind!" Tressa pawed her way out of the tangled mass as if subduing an enemy. "It'll take hours to fix. Anyway, just curious. Princess Ashley, are you asking if one of us had you shot?"

"With that attitude, I wouldn't blame her if she thought you were the culprit," Derek said. Was it too soon to adore him?

Tressa pursed her perfect pouty lips. "Eat flies."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Oh, I get it. Because I spent a few swampy years as a frog? You're so clever. Maybe you should get a haircut already and being such a grumpypants!"

Ashley coughed, and an electric shock of pain bolted across her ribs. "Look, none of you has any reason to shoot me. At least not yet," she tried to smile, but couldn't quite feel her lips.

The royals laughed at her joke, even Tressa, and a strange warmth spread through Ashley.

"We ought to get a physician to take a look at her," Sadira said.

"No!" Ashley cried. "I'm fine. Totally good." Herverd, the royal physician/astrology-enthusiast,* adored bloodletting. Some said the man selected his occupation based on a love of sharp objects and blood. Others theorized that he was a vampire, and he used his profession to secure his nutritional needs. Ashley had to admit; the man had unnaturally pale skin.

"All right. No physician," Sadira agreed. "Can you walk? We should get you back to your rooms."

"Uh ..."

At that moment, a gaggle of castle residents streamed from the castle onto the lawn, skirts and capes flapping like wild geese. Ashley supposed it wasn't every day someone shot a princess out of the sky.

Ashley did not know whether their excitement was out of concern or the chance to perhaps see body parts strewn across the grass. Maybe both?

Perhaps it wasn't about her at all, and the onslaught of castle-dwellers occurred due to the unannounced arrival of six royals and their colorful entourages.

Regardless, Ashley did know that being seen by her subjects whilst covered in rainbow and human blood, disheveled and dishonored, wasn't entirely the "I'm totally a real princess" impression she hoped to achieve.

A regiment of castle guards, which included Terrowin, interceded and formed a human barricade, standing side-by-side and shouting: "Order. Order. Stand back."

Even so, two men pushed their way to the front—Borin, the snide seneschal, and Herverd, the blade-happy doctor.

Herverd waved a very sharp, very shiny, brass fleam** in one hand and a copy of Ever After's newspaper—The Manly Times—in the other.

Neither of these men was on her list of Top Ten People I'd Like to See After a Near Death Experience. Borin was a bloody turdbucket, and Herverd, a possible blood-consumer, and if you'll remember, Ashley currently had a medley of blood (both unicorn and human) stuck to her clothes and skin.

"Look," Prince Derek said, pointing at the assembly, "your royal greeting contingent has expanded."

Ashley shook her head. "That's kind of you, Prince Derek, but I planned none of this. I do apologize for the shoddy welcome."

Sadly, Herverd and Borin made it past the wall of guards.

"Majesty," Herverd said, arriving first with unnatural speed. How is it Ashley never noticed his widow's peak before? "I should have warned you. Your horoscope today referred to a catastrophic event." He cleared his throat and read: Today, Libras can expect to meet an untimely death or inherit 1,000 gold coins from a long-lost relative's early demise. I could've prevented this whole thing."***

"It's all right, Herverd. Not your fault. Unless you shot the arrow." Out of the corner of her eye, Ashley scrutinized Borin's for signs of guilt. But with his perpetual sneer, the seneschal always looked guilty.

Herverd's usual chalky skin managed to turn even paler. "Of course not, My Princess. I would never—"

"I know," Ashley said, glaring at Borin.

Herverd gave an appreciative smile. "Now, Your Highness. I can take your blood here, or you can come inside to my surgery."

When you're a princess, people like to fuss over you like you're a small child or an injured kitten, especially when you nearly died falling off the back of a unicorn shot from the sky with an unidentified arrow.

But when you're a servant, and you've worked your fingers to the bone—literally—no one cares. Pain is expected, if not at some level, tacit punishment for the crime of being born into the lower class.

Which meant, Ashley was used to pain. "No need. I am feeling much better," she lied. "I'd like to hold on to my blood for now." Herverd stepped closer. Was he sniffing her?

"I don't think that's wise ... Your Highness," Borin said.

Ashley wished the ground would swallow him up. "Thank you for your opinion, Seneschal," Ashley said. Borin tested her ability to maintain a kind and understanding, fairy-godmother-worthy demeanor.

He tried to puff out his sunken chest. "Glad you see my point. I've been entrusted with your welfare, Highness. And if the doctor believes this course of action will help you heal, I'm afraid I must insist. On behalf of His Majesty, Prince Charming."

"Oh, dear," Ashley said.

Borin wrinkled his brow, his caterpillar eyebrows wriggling. "What?"

"Well, considering I was just shot out of the sky by this arrow—" Ashley started to rise, wincing at the pain.

"Allow me," Prince Derek said, offering Ashley his hand.

"Thank you," Ashley said, accepting the aid. She pointed the arrow in Borin's direction and continued. "—I'm afraid you've failed at keeping me safe."

"It's not my fault that you snuck out of your room to go gallivanting off on a unicorn."

"You've been spying on me?"

"Prince's orders."

"Let us not discuss this in front of our esteemed guests," Ashley said. "Kindly be at my quarters in one hour." Borin stood, frozen like a deer in the torchlights.

His lip curled. "I report only to the prince. I disapprove of ... this." He waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the royals. "Don't you have some needlepoint to do?"

Ashley imagined needlepointing Borin's mouth closed. That was a needlepoint project she could get behind! The seneschal was utterly infuriating. "Terrowin?" Ashley called.

The guard broke from the others and approached with a deep bow. "At yer service, Me Princess."

"Please have one of your guards escort this ... this person ... back into the castle and see that he reports to my antechamber in one hour."

"Of course." Terrowin summoned the most massive, meanest-looking guard for the job. He grabbed Borin's arm.

"You will pay for this, you—" Borin said, but before he could specify what she was, the guard had whisked the seneschal away. Ashley would have to handle Borin carefully. His confidence in having Charming's support seemed genuine But the man's presence stung like fire ants attacking her psyche.

She exhaled and faced the doctor. "Thank you, Herverd, but I do not require your services at this time."

The doctor's face fell. "It's okay. I knew it. My horoscope said today a woman would reject me."

Ashley felt a little bad letting the doctor down. But when it came to her blood, she hoped to keep it within the confines of her body. Herverd bowed and set out for his surgery or lair or wherever he plied his trade.

"Majesties," Ashley addressed her royal guests. She would've curtsied but didn't want to risk falling, thus providing the doctor a reason to fleam her after all. "If you will please retire to the sitting room for tea, I will see that your rooms are prepared."

"Thank you, Princess Ashley," Sadira said. "But we don't want to be any bother."

"Yes, we do," Tressa frowned as she continued to battle her hair. "I'm famished."

"You are not a bother." Ashley took Sadira's small, petal-soft hands in hers. "I am truly honored you are here. You are all most welcome visitors."

"Thank you, Princess Ashley," Sadira said.

"I shall see you at supper then," Ashley said.

"Can't wait," Prince Derek said.

Ashley caught the eye of one of her ladies-in-waiting in the crowd. Valeria, the brunette, the youngest and kindest lady-in-waiting (whose name Ashley had learned!). She gestured her over. "Valeria? It's fine, Terrowin. Let her pass." The other ladies-in-waiting sulked at not being asked.

"My Princess," the lady said, curtseying.

"Right. Valeria. Could you please arrange tea for our guests?"

"Yes, Highness." Valeria's eyes dropped to Ashley's blood-splattered riding habit. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you. And please, call me Ashley."

"Oh, no. I couldn't," Valeria said, blood rising in her cheeks. Luckily, Herverd had taken his leave, so no issues with him being tempted by Valeria's flagrant blood display on her cheeks. "I shall show your esteemed royal visitors to the sitting room, Your Highness." Valeria retreated, walking backward in a bowing position. After all these months, Ashley sometimes wondered what the castle inhabitants looked like from behind. Except for Borin. She knew very well the appearance of his backside, as he never backed away.

Valeria curtsied to each of the royals and escorted them inside the castle.

"Terrowin?"

"Yes, Highness?"

"Could you please ask your men to show the royal entourages where to set up camp? Perhaps the wildflower meadows beside the river."

"An honor, Me Princess." He also backed away before turning to speak with his men.

"All right, everyone," Ashley addressed the crowd, her voice almost as wobbly as her legs. "I think we ought to return to our various duties. Thank you for your ... uh ... concern. Terrowin, once you're done, could you stay a moment?"

"Of course, Highness."

After the courtyard cleared, Ashley handed the arrow to her favorite guard. He turned it over, first giving it a visual inspection. Then he ran his forefinger gently over the arrowhead and his thumb along the spine, knock, and fletching. His fingers came away with blood. He sniffed. "Aye, it's unicorn blood, all right. But no identifying feathers or markings. Did you see the direction it came from?"

"No. But I have no sense of direction. Perhaps you could interview the groom, Gerald."

I shall. I get a strange feeling from this arrow. Like I have seen it before, yet I know I haven't. Makes no sense."

Goosebumps rose on Ashley's arms. "Like déjà vu," she breathed. Strange. Perhaps the arrow had been spelled. Could Marveloni be behind this? And would it be better if it turned out he was the potential killer or if it were than one of the other royals? Neither sounded good. "Do you think you can somehow trace it to its source?" Ashley said. "Discreetly? I have no desire to start a war." With the other kingdoms or with an all-powerful magician, Ashley did not add.

"I shall be discreet."

"Good. It could've come from any of the kingdoms. Or from anyone within the castle."

"That narrows it down," Terrowin's mustache wriggled as he tried to suppress a smile.

"Aye, it does," Ashley said. "Thank you, Terrowin."

The guard blushed. "Tis my duty and honor."

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Once Ashley had been bathed and coiffed by her ladies, she waited for the seneschal—the man Charming had entrusted with running the castle.

She sat at the edge of a settee in her anteroom, back straight as a broom handle, ankles crossed, hands folded primly in her lap, bruises hidden beneath layers of crinoline and lace.

Ashley had learned this position from her Stepmonster, who used it whenever she reprimanded one of her servants (usually Ashley) for subpar performance.

Though Ashley could pretend to be haughty and hide the physical bruises, the musky, rotted-wood smell of the calendula bandages her ladies had insisted on applying lingered in the air, revealing her sham. Inside, her stomach churned like soured butter. An untouched goblet of honey wine and a roll of parchment lay upon the coffee table.

As we know, Ashley had many talents—kindness, ballroom dance, animal communication, jogging in glass slippers. But confrontation had never been amongst her gifts. It made her nostalgic for the days when she could hide in her Stepmonster's chimney for hours, scrubbing creosote deposits.

But she had to stay sharp because so much depended on this meeting. If Borin detected an ounce of weakness, he would send a pigeon to the prince reporting her utterly unprincesslike behavior.

No.

If she was to help her subjects and bring honor to the kingdom, Ashley had to act like a princess, despite not knowing how.

A rap at the door startled her, sending waves of icy adrenaline through her veins. You are a princess. You are a princess. She guzzled half the goblet of wine to settle her nerves. "Come," she croaked.

The door opened, with the bearlike Terrowin filling the entrance. Once he'd turned the investigation of the arrow over to his most trusted men, the loyal guard had insisted on protecting his princess.

"Borin, the seneschal 'es here, Highness," Terrowin said.

"Thank you, Terrowin," Ashley said.

"Will you be needin' me to stay?"

"No, you may remain outside. I feel safe knowing you're there."

He smiled at the compliment, then bowed, allowing Borin to pass. Before closing the door, he cleared his throat and lobbed a warning glare at Borin, so fierce; it warmed Ashley's heart.

The deep hollows of Borin's cheeks filled with shadows from the flickering candles in the windowless room. His dirt-colored cloak hung off his skeletal frame like woolen armor. If the surgeon, Herverd, was the castle vampire, Borin would be another creature of the night—a zombie. His eyes bore into hers. Ashley managed to squelch a shudder.

Etiquette dictated that Borin bow. Though Ashley hated the idea that one human being is subservient to another, she waited.

Borin executed a shallow bow and cast an eye at the various chairs and sofas in the room. Ashley did not invite him to sit.

"Your Highness," Borin began. "About your visit to the library. It is strictly off-limits to females. Can you not read? There is a large sign saying as much on the door."

How did he even know she went to the library? Ashley fantasized about Borin being conked on the head with the stupid sign. Knowing this wasn't a very princess thought, she banished it from her mind. "I did read the sign," Ashley said. "If I couldn't read it, then what worry would there be if I did enter the library? Is it the words that are inappropriate for ladies or the books themselves? Do they leap from the shelves and assault us delicate females?"

"Uh," Borin's eyebrows wriggled. "That is not the point."

Ashley looked up at the ceiling and counted to ten. A spider wove her web between two arms of the chandelier. "Borin, I need your help."

Borin's mouth fell open. "Uh, yes?"

"First, it has come to my attention that children have been disappearing from the village. What can you tell me about this?"

"There is ... uh..." he stammered. "There is nothing to tell. The prince and I ... er ... His Highness and I, we have it all under control."

"I see," Ashley said. "Pray tell, what measures have been taken to recover them?"

"I would have to consult my records," Borin said, the tendons at his neck standing out.

"And how many are missing?"

"I would have to—"

"Consult your records?"

"Yes."

"I see. I would appreciate it if you could provide me with a report at your earliest convenience. These disappearances are quite disturbing. We must do everything we can to return the children to their families." She smiled sweetly.

"I—"

"Would twenty-four hours be enough time?"

Borin looked at his feet.

"Excellent," Ashley said when he didn't respond. "My other request is for you to handle the room assignments and requirements for our royal visitors. For some reason, I did not receive any of their RSVP's. Do you know anything about an issue with the pigeon post?"

The seneschal's feet must've been quite interesting as he continued to look at them rather than meet her eye. "No," he mumbled at last.

"Okay, well, as I didn't expect them, none of the preparations have been handled. Fortunately, I spent much time contemplating and planning in the event they came. Ashley retrieved the scroll of parchment from the table.

She handed the list to the seneschal and sipped her wine as he read aloud, barely able to hide his disdain.

Issue – Dehydration.

Needs - Large body of water.

Specifications - Water to be ocean temperature and briny. Welcome basket to include a dozen silver forks in varying sizes in lieu of hairbrushes.

Assignment - Grand Seashell Bath.

Issue - Insomnia after unfortunate 1000-year sleep. Aversion to spinning wheels.

Needs – Quiet, comfortable bed.

Specifications - All spinning wheels to be removed from the premises.

Assignment – Rose Cottage.

Issue – Fear of witchy crones with a grudge. Recurring nightmares of being a fly-eating amphibian.

Needs - Partial to the color green. To be kept far from croaking frogs, buzzing flies, old wells, and crones with a grudge.

Specifications - Maximum distance from unicorn manure pile due to the high volume of flies.

Assignment - Emerald Bedchamber.

Issue - Possible apple allergy.

Needs – Room not in the sightline of an apple orchard.

Specifications– Remove apples from welcome fruit basket.

Assignment - Tower Suite.

Issue – Hair management.

Needs – Ample square footage to accommodate voluminous hair.

SpecificationsStock room with plenty of hair products, boar-bristle brushes, mother-of-pearl combs, and one-thousand pearl hairpins.

Assignment – Lofty Tower Suite.

Issue – Detests peas. Bruise-prone.

Needs – High ceiling. Ladder.

Specifications100 mattresses to be stacked one on top of the other. Care taken that no peas are in the vicinity.

Assignment - Ballroom (high ceilings.)

"This will take days," he concluded.

"But they are already here. I wish I'd known the royals were coming. But alas—no RSVPs. Could you please try to have it done by six p.m. so the royals can dress for dinner?"

Borin stood as stiff as a corpse. "I shall do my best," he said bowing.

"Thank you. I'm sure the prince will appreciate your service to his princess."

After he left, Ashley chugged the remainder of the honey wine. For some reason, it tasted bitter on her tongue.

She looked up at the ceiling once again, to discover the spider had ensnared a fly. "Congratulations," Ashley said with admiration.

"Thanks," the spider responded, settling in for her plump snack.

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