If you're going to retch, there are several socially-acceptable receptacles—a misshapen bush in a dimly-lit area outside a bar, a toilet (voted #1 best place by people with noses), an airplane sick bag, your bed, (if you're under the age of six).

But one place on the "not recommended list" is on the lap of your lying, cheating husband (who happens to be an all-powerful prince), inside of a hot, enclosed carriage. Not only is the smell horrendous, but this scenario could also result in an all-access pass back to the pillory.

She wished she could disappear from this entire reality.*

But since inter-dimensional travel wasn't an option in fairy tale times, Ashley did the only thing she could think of on the fly—pretend to choke and collapse on the seat to feign death. The gagging and holding her throat part went great. For a moment, a glimmer of empathy passed through Charming's stunning amethyst eyes. But the falling over part—not so good. Pain exploded in her head as it smacked against the golden armrest. Bright lights swam in her eyes. She strained to hold on to consciousness and prayed her pretend death wouldn't turn real. Although a temporary coma would be welcome, she thought, the moment before cold, blissful darkness swallowed her.

"Wake up, man!" Charming shouted, shaking her so hard, her bones jangled. It also didn't help the pain in her skull. Her mouth tasted like an acid punch the Grim Reaper might serve at a "Welcome to Death" barbecue. How long had she been out? Through her closed eyelids, she detected a ghost of milky Forbidden Forest sunlight. Still daytime. Still in the Forest. Outside the carriage, a cacophony of raised voices, clanging tools, and hurried footsteps meant they were in camp. "Did you hear me? I command you to wake up! No one is allowed to die in my carriage without permission!"

Ashley lay as still as a coffin. If she did otherwise, it would mean facing the fact that she had thrown up on the prince and possible questioning about why Charming got "ill" right after she delivered his morning grog.

A large, calloused hand covered her mouth and nose. Ashley held her breath. The best part about not breathing? She could no longer taste her mouth stench.

The hand retracted, and Ashley risked a tiny breath. "God's bones!" Charming cried. The carriage door slammed open. Her heart lifted because this meant he believed she was dead. And assuming he didn't want to hang out with a corpse,** he'd most likely dump her to the ground. At which point, she would be thrown into the woods to be eaten by house-elves or ogres or orcs or whatever else dwelled in a Forbidden Forest, and she could finally escape. "Guard!"

"Highness?"

"I will need a change of clothes and some smelling salts. And a moist towel."

"Yes, Your Highness. Be right back," the guard said.

Ashley held back a groan. Charming hadn't bought her "faking to be dead" story after all.

Laces snapped through eyelets. The prince must be unfastening his royal jodhpurs. Ashley couldn't stop her cheeks from turning pink, imagining his shriveled purple bits. The question was, why didn't he seem to care? Maybe the potion hadn't worked after, all and the woman who left his tent screaming was playing hard to get or something. Ashley needed confirmation, which meant risking a peek. She barely lifted an eyelid. Through the forest of her lush princess lashes, a giant amethyst eye, an inch away, peered back at her. Ashley shrunk away and screamed. "What are you doing?" she said.

It turned out Charming was fully dressed, still in vomit clothes. He'd only pretended to remove them.

"Knew you were faking."

"Did not."

"Did too," Charming shot back. He tapped a finger against her cheekbone. "Your eyes ..."

Ashley gulped. "What? They're just eyes."

"No, but they seem ... I don't know." He snapped his fingers as if this would somehow provide the answer. "Familiar."

Familiar? Honestly. For months she thought her prince had been gazing into your eyes with true love, and it turned out all he'd been doing was daydreaming about dragon quests or the dinner menu. "Tell me, man, what do you do at the castle? What's your day job?"

Without hesitation, Ashley said: "I'm a unicorn groom." Of all the jobs at the castle, for some reason, this one sprang to mind first.

"Which is your favorite unicorn?" he said. She could tell he was testing her.

"Louis, naturally."

"He is the strongest."

Ashley relaxed a little. He bought that, at least. Then she stiffened. Louisa was still in the Forbidden Forest waiting for her. The quicker she got out of the carriage, the better.

A hand bearing a package of clothing plunged into the carriage. "Sire, here are the items you requested."

Charming snatched the bundle, withdrawing a vial and throwing it back at the guard. "I don't need the smelling salts as it turns out. But a glass of mead for my guest. Chip chop."

"Maybe water," Ashley croaked.

"Water for him then. Go." The guard departed. Charming flung his arm dismissively in Ashley's direction. "You may look away."

"Why?" Ashley said, genuinely curious. She'd already seen the worst.

"Because I'm going to change into clothes that aren't slimed with your vomit."

"But before you ... you ... seemed ... to kind of ..."

"Never mind that now. Go on. Obey your prince."

Ashley rolled over, pressing her nose into the satin pillows. They smelled like lavender, which was an improvement to the smell in the rest of the carriage.

A few minutes later, the prince was out of the vomit clothes and into clean ones. She was kind of surprised that he could dress himself. That's another thing about being royal, which she'd only had to put up with it for a few months. Imagine spending your whole life without ever putting on your own boots?

"It's safe now," he said, tossing the dirty clothes out of the window.

"We're ready to leave, sire," said a guard, removing the soiled clothes from where they'd landed on his head. Another guard handed Charming a mug of mead and another with water. They both guzzled their drinks and returned the mugs.

"Then let's be off."

The liquid in Ashley's stomach churned. "Wait, don't you want me to leave first?" Louisa! Ashley had to get back to her unicorn.

"Why would I want you to go?"

"Because I am a lowly groom who just threw-up on you and have no right to ride in the royal carriage with your illustrious self."

"It's boring to be alone. It turns out velvet and gold are nice to look at but don't have much to say."

"Why not invite the gentry? They are probably better conversationalists."

"Because they all want something from me. And you don't. It's refreshing."

"I wouldn't mind a title and a few thousand acres of parsnips."

Charming laughed. "See? You are amusing. And you'll stay. I still think I know you from somewhere, and I'm determined to figure out from whence. Have you ever worked in a brothel?"

Charming frequented brothels? Ashley stored that tidbit for later analysis. "Not that I remember."

"Well, if you'd had sex with me, you would definitely remember," he purred.

Ashley gagged. Quietly. "I'm sure, Your Highness."

"Everyone tells me of my prowess."

"Yes, Your Highness."

He leaned back, smiling. "Soon, I'll be back in shape. So, don't worry, my friend." He hit the top of the carriage twice.

It rocked; the wheels crunched over the pitted ground. They were on their way. And Ashley was trapped for what could be hours. Poor Louisa. What would become of her? Ashley resolved to escape somehow and rescue her unicorn.

Soon the swaying of the carriage lulled Charming to sleep, and Ashley quickly followed.

👑👑👑

A sudden jerking motion startled Ashley awake. She shivered and slowly remembered where she was. The prince's carriage. With the prince. In disguise. After throwing up on him. She sat, holding her prickling arms against her chest. Snowflake-like fronds of ice crystals bloomed on the glass windows beneath the cold moonlight. They had stopped. Outside, horses whinnied, people cried out, swords clattered against metal.

Her teeth chattered. "What's going on?"

"Quiet," Charming hissed. "It's all under control."

"What's out there?" she whispered.

"Ice elves."

"What are ice elves?"

"Nasty little creatures. Live in the frozen bits of the Forbidden Forest."

A layer of goosebumps along Ashley's arms formed above the goosebumps that were already there. "What do they want? Are the people out there all right?"

"They want our blood. We're warm-blooded, you see. When ice elves drink our blood, it warms them. Like campfires but with blood instead of flames."

Ashley cringed every time he said, "blood." She shook her head, which turned out to be a mistake. Maybe hitting it on the armrest had done long term damage. But the prince made no sense. "I thought that was vampires," Ashley said.

"Vampires don't live in the Forbidden Forest."

"What do we do?"

"They prefer women, so we're probably all right."

Oh, great. Now her secret identity would be revealed by ice elves depriving Ashley of her blood.

"Maybe I should go check on the women," Ashley said. Braving an infestation of ice elves sounded less frightening than what would happen after Charming discovered her deception.

"Don't worry. We'll toss them a wench or two, and it'll be over."

Ashley's eyes grew round. "What?" Aren't the 'wenches' your subjects?"

"Sure."

"Then why would you sacrifice them?"

"Because we have no female prisoners to offer." He chucked her chin.

Now Ashley felt guilty. If she had continued as a prisoner, perhaps an innocent maiden wouldn't be killed. Something slammed against the carriage window. Sheets of ice lost their grip and slid down the glass.

"What was that?"

"Shhhh."

A small grey humanoid with pointy teeth and a conical green hat banged his tiny fist against the glass, grinning and licking his lips.

Sometimes in life, you're too scared to think about being afraid. The fear is there, poking at you like an annoying stepsister, but you ignore it, hoping it will lose interest and go away. That's pretty much where Ashley was at this moment. She rose, scanning the interior of the carriage for something useful. Her eyes slid past Charming, who played a beat with his fingertips against the armrest. Useless. "I think we're long past 'shhh.' Where's your sword?"

"Huh? Up there." He thumbed over his shoulder toward the package tray.

"Aren't you going to fight them?"

"No. It'll all be fine once they get some blood."

The elf shoved a tiny green-sleeved arm through the glass. Green blood mixed with shards of glass exploded on to the seats and floor. The ice elf smiled, showing its fangs, then emitted a high-pitched laugh that could've curdled a witch's brew. Ashley's stomach twisted. She would've screamed if not for the fact that she temporarily misplaced her vocal cords.

"I can't believe you broke my window. Get out of here," Charming scolded the elf. "There'll be some delicious female blood for you in the back of the queue."

"Want princess blood. Best blood," the elf said in a deep guttural voice that didn't match his delicate exterior. "I'm the ice elf prince. I deserve princess blood!" He gazed longingly at Ashley, his long green tongue licking a full circle around its lips.

Ashley shook. This was it. The moment Charming discovered she was really one of his princesses. And the jig would be up. He would figure out the plan.

Charming stomped a boot on to the carriage floor. "There's no princess here, you loon. Go away." He batted at the elf, who growled and jumped on the prince's lap. Green blood leaked from the elf's cuts on to Charming's fresh jodhpurs. "No! These are clean!" he squealed.

"Ghaaaaa," the elf growled. He sunk his fangs into Charming's wrist. Ashley leaped for the sword in the package tray and managed to grab it by the hilt end, (which is generally a better idea than grabbing the blade.) It was heavy, but after years of lifting cabinets and four-poster beds to clean, Ashley managed to hold it up. Incredible the degree to which housework prepares you for battle. She brandished it at the elf, then paused. This could be it. She could let the elf kill Charming, and it would all be over. Justice would be done.

But he needed to suffer longer. That's what she had told the other royals in the meeting. Plus, she couldn't imagine watching the life leave Charming's eyes because of her deed. Ashley sliced through the elf's hat.

"Hey, that's a new hat," the elf whined, disconnecting himself from Charming's wrist. The prince held his injured wrist in his hand and whimpered. Luckily it was the one already maimed with the dragon scar so he wouldn't have a new mark to blemish his perfect body.

"Get. Out." Ashley growled, pointing the sword at the elf's chest.

"Want princess blood," the elf whined again.

"Well, you can't have any. And if you want to live, you'll call off your brethren. You did say you were their prince."

"But you're in our forest. It's our right to drink your blood."

"No one owns a forest." "Your choice."

He whistled. Everything outside calmed down. The horses stopped snorting, and people stopped screaming. "It's over," the elf yelled out the broken window. "Time to look for a tastier entourage."

"Are you saying our entourage is inferior?" the prince huffed with irritation.

The elf rolled his little black elf eyes and jumped out of the broken window.

Ashley dropped the sword on the floor of the carriage, the muscles in her arm throbbing.

"Are you going to be sick again?" the prince said.

"No," Ashley said, folding her arms over her chest.

"Good," he said. "I showed that elf, didn't I?"

Are you joking? Ashley did not say. Was he taking credit? All he did was get bitten and whimper. "You sure did," Ashley said. "Is there a blanket in here?"

He threw her a blanket. She laid across the bench, facing away from Charming, and covered herself head to toe. If she tried, she could imagine he wasn't even there.

👑👑👑

Ashley awakened to the sound of wheels crunching over snow. She blinked at the sunlight. After however many hours she'd spent in the Forbidden Forest, the sun was particularly shocking. And welcome. Her body was heavy. As if she slept beneath a hundred of Layyin's mattresses. It took her a long while to sit.

Outside was nothing but acres of pure snow. A blur of white. It was freezing in the carriage due to the broken window. Ashley wondered if it might be possible to cover it when a strange, winged shadow stretched out over the expanse of white snow beside the carriage. It kept up with them as a dancer in a waltz keeping time with his partner.

She gathered the blanket tighter. Charming slept. His face looked so innocent in sleep. Hardly at all like a guy who would throw innocent women to the ice elves. She used to gaze at him for hours on the few occasions he was in her bed. Before she knew true love was a fantasy made up by cruel storytellers to make regular people feel inadequate.

Charming's injured arm draped over the edge of the carriage seat, thin curls of black smoke rose from the newly-opened dragon scar. It smelled like crackling fire and a mother's pain and had the acrid stink of dark magic. His mouth contorted in sleep as shadows and light passed over his face. What had the ice elf done to him? Or could this be a side-effect of the Wane & Tail? Or something else entirely?

The carriage bounced to a stop, the wheels catching the snow. Horses grunted. The quiet that followed was disconcerting. Like someone had thrown a velvet blanket over the world, and soon everyone would suffocate.

Peering out the window, Ashley saw a massive yellow stone fortress. Snow packed up the stone walls, glistening in the sun. The building bore no sign, had no windows, and no doors. It looked more like a prison than a cloister, like something that existed out of place and time. But it screamed magic.

Three witches in black robes shimmered into view, expressions of bliss pasted on their faces. Wow! Being a witch seemed super awesome. What fun Ashley would have with a trick like that. These were women who lived life on their terms, in their way.

Ashley resisted the urge to go to them. Kneel before them. Beg them to make her one of them. They had everything she needed. They knew who they were and were okay with it.

You may ask how Ashley knew all of this, sitting in a carriage fifty feet away. But sometimes, an entire story is told in a shrug. In a glance. In stillness.

"What's happened to your mustache?"

"Huh?" Ashley jumped, her hand flying to the fake line of hair beneath her nose. The left half drooped over her mouth. Rather than pat it back into place, she removed it. She lowered her voice. "I had trouble growing it out, and ... uh ... people teased me. So, I got a fake one. But, sire, what's happened to your wrist?" She schooled her face to hide the terror beneath.

Charming sat, grabbing his wrist with his uninjured hand, eyes scouring the carriage. They rested on the blanket wrapped around Ashley's shoulders. "May I?" he said. "I know you're cold."

Huh? Was this polite man the same prince from last night? Ashley removed the blanket and handed it to him. He nodded a thank you, then wrapped it around his wrist.

"Is that what happens when an ice elf bites you?"

Charming wrinkled his forehead. Cleared his throat. "Exactly. And don't worry." He glanced over his shoulder at the stone fortress. "It'll soon be remedied along with everything else. Tell no one," he pleaded.

Ashley barely nodded a reply. Though she'd slept, Charming's personality shifts buzzed in her brain. She wished she could shut it off. Get out of here. Plus, pretending to be male was exhausting. Yeah, there were perks—comfortable shoes, no corset, fewer men looking at her like she was something to be devoured. But pretending lay heavy on her psyche. Not to mention the hairpins beneath the wig dug into her scalp.

"Why are we here, Your Highness?" Ashley decided if she had to be here, she ought to gather information. "Aren't you heading to Ugge to prepare for the Interkingdom Games?"

"I have a small matter to attend to first."

Small indeed, Ashley thought.

Three guards approached the carriage and opened the door. They bowed deeply as Charming rose, his wrist still hidden beneath the blanket. "Stay," he pointed at Ashley.

She had to pee again. "But ..."

"Guards! See that ... How is it I don't know your name?" His face softened.

"Because I am not important. It would be like asking a fly or a doorknob its name."

Charming shook his head. "See that this nameless lad remains here."

Ashley's stomach shrunk, and her bladder tightened.

"Yes, Sire," the guard said.

Charming dropped from the carriage, his boots sinking into the snow. He approached the witches, spreading his arms wide, as if in an embrace when they all shimmered and disappeared. Her curiosity expanded, along with her bladder. She had to know what was happening inside that building.