Sections of Cornell Castle, though constructed of stone and wood and metal, seemed to have breath and a voice and even a heartbeat. Walking these corridors, Ashley couldn't shake the feeling that she'd been swallowed by a stony, iron-hearted monster.

For the trip to Borin's office, Ashley wore the warmest gown she could find in the Vault, wool fingerless gloves, and several layers of woolen socks inside her slippers. They hushed over the stone floor, stealthy as snakes.

A tangle of cobwebs, sagging from the rafters like shredded lace, brushed against her head. Goosebumps prickled along her arms, and cold fear slid down her neck. Perhaps she should've brought someone with her. Last time she walked these passages, she'd had Chomperz along to divert her attention away from the weird drippy walls and rusted suits of armor, whose hollow eyes seemed to follow her.

But too late for regrets. Ashley had only half an hour till supper, and she needed to arrive on time; for if there were spies in the castle in contact with Charming, she couldn't risk anyone reporting that his princess was acting strangely.

Though the hall was surrounded by rock, a howling gust of wind ruffled through her hair and stirred her skirts. There must've been an opening to the outside somewhere further along. Still, Ashley thought the Ghost of Cornell Castle hung out here. The place screamed, "GHOST!" Like if there was a ghost playground or a ghost resort, what more could the corporally-challenged ask for than a dimly-lit, moist, stone hallway, where ghostly moans could easily be mistaken for the wind.

Where no one could hear a person's screams.

Ashley shook her head and rubbed her arms. This line of thinking was ridiculous—all of it was only her imagination. Castles do not eat people. Why would they? They've no need for nutrition. And a scrawny princess wouldn't make a satisfying snack anyway. And what ill damage could a ghost do without physical means?

Finally, she approached the door to Borin's office. It was locked from top to bottom with a series of rusty, mismatched hasps, latches, and bolts.

She examined each one, running her fingers along the various keyholes. No problem. Removing two pins from her hair, Ashley got to work on lockpicking. With each tumbler she conquered, her lungs expanded with satisfaction. Her success at this simple task gave her confidence that Ashley hadn't experienced in a while. Instead, lately, she had taken on impossible tasks like leading vengeful expeditions, outwitting witches, flying cranky unicorns, and discerning an oyster fork from a lobster fork. All this took a toll on a person.

The final lock clicked. Holding her breath, Ashley nudged the door open, cringing at the sound from the old iron hinges creaking through the quiet hall like an old witch's bones.

The Seneschal's office smelled like dust and mildew, ink, and rot. The only light came from a narrow slit in the far side of the room.

There was little ornamentation other than a stuffed raven perched on a rafter, its cold black marbled eyes sending shivers up Ashley's spine. A large desk topped with an inkpot, quills, and a miniature guillotine beside a basket of rotting apples sat at the far end.

Behind the desk lurked a twelve-foot tall bookcase, stuffed full of what must have been the accounting records of the realm. She knew this because embossed along each spine were the words EVER AFTER ACCOUNTING RECORDS and a date.

Holding her breath, Ashley pulled the most current volume from the case. Despite being the most recent, it still smelled old. Its yellow parchment curled at the edges. Ashley sat at the desk and opened it to the first page.

The first half of the book listed taxes by the name of each royal subject. Sometimes they were paid in gold, sometimes silver, sometimes with livestock or produce. Some were not paid at all. These people had a royal decree of punishment next to their entries. Penalties were paid either in prison time or in free labor. Ashley's heart sunk when she saw the number of people unable to pay their taxes.

And no wonder! When she pulled the prior year's account book for comparison, she saw the taxes due had doubled.

Just as the villagers said.

The second half of the book contained a list of household expenses. In the left column were names of businesses followed by a description of the items purchased and the cost. Ashley recognized some of the businesses from the village. There were all sorts of expenses, everything from cattle to unicorn hay to tooth whitener, (whatever that was), to meat, flour, wages, and more. But in the current year, the amount paid to a business named Grayson's Graven Images Inc. in the Freestate of Ugge was enormous.

Grayson Graven Images? Ashley had never even heard of them. What could it be?

"I can't stand it for one more minute," came a voice from down the hall. Ashley practically levitated from the chair, heart exploding from her chest. She hadn't expected another human to be in the vicinity. Indeed, even the maids must've avoided this area, as evidenced by the thick layer of dust on everything.

"Who's there?" Ashley called.

A moment later, Princess Blanche, dressed in a ruffled gown of gold and royal blue, appeared in the doorway, slipping something smooth and shiny into her bodice. "Princess Ashley. Uh ... sorry, I ... I didn't expect to ..."

"It's okay, Princess Blanche," Ashley said, taking in a series of deep calming breaths. Even though she had every right to examine her kingdom's books, she couldn't help but feel like what she was doing was improper. The bigger question was, what was Blanche doing here? "Pray tell, what are you doing in this part of the castle?"

"Ah," Blanche slid her hand down the damp stone wall. "I love it here. It's solitary. I can think clearly. It's the best place to be alone with ... uh ... one's inner self."

Ashley raised an eyebrow. "I suppose. Personally, I can't stand it. Cold and wet all the time."

"I like the cold and wet. Plus, there are no apples here!"

"Oh, yes, I heard about your terrible experience in the apple grove. It must've been unbearably hard."

Blanche shuddered. "It was. Horrifying."

"I am pleased you're looking so well."

"As are you after your travails. I heard you had quite the adventure."

"I did. But all good now." Ashley needed to get back to her research. She didn't have time for chit chat. "I better return to work. But I hope to see you after dinner in the Jacuzzi room. We have much planning to discuss."

"Wouldn't miss it," Blanche said, frowning. "What are you doing in here with all these musty books?" She walked toward the desk.

"Catching up on some light reading," Ashley laughed.

Blanche eyed the bookcase. "So, these are the castle books?"

"Yep," Ashley said, slamming the book closed. It was one thing for her to scrutinize Ever After's finances, quite another to open them to a foreign princess.

Blanche swiped the dust off of a line of accounting tomes in the bookcase. "You know, when I lived with the little men in the cottage, I was in charge of the bookkeeping."

"I didn't know that," Ashley said.

"Yeah, they were great at mining. The gems they cracked open from the bowels of the earth were amazing. But then they didn't know what to do with them. All they were good at was whistling while they worked, mining, and coming home and expecting a hot stew. But who was going to pay for the meat and seasonings? So I set up a limited partnership and began selling the gems at the monthly market. In disguise, of course, so the evil queen wouldn't find me. We made a killing! And I kept track of all the money."

"How enterprising," Ashley said, genuinely impressed.

"Yes, so what I'm saying is that I could help you if you think there's something wrong."

Ashley hugged the large volume to her chest. "That's okay. But I do appreciate the offer. I better get ready for dinner."

"Are you sure?"

Ashley's stomach churned, and her chest tightened. She had so much to do. Why not accept help? Blanche was her friend. "That would be amazing. Seriously?"

"Sure. That's why we're here, right? Princesses helping princesses."

"Yes. Yes, of course. Well, let me show you what I've found so far." She placed the book back on the table and opened it to the expenses page. "It looks like a lot of the villagers have been double-taxed. And then I found all these payments to Grayson's Graven Images, Inc. Have you ever heard of them?"

Blanche wrinkled her brow and shook her head. "Can't say I have. Interesting."

"Yeah, I need to know what's happening with the money. It's like the castle coffers are being emptied, and a great deal of it has gone to that one company. But I don't see any delivery notices from them. I think Borin is draining the castle assets."

"Maybe you should torture the truth out of him," Blanche suggested. "You do have the most up-to-date torture equipment. Why have it if you don't use it?"

"Uh, I guess that makes sense. But I'd like to see if I can suss it out of him without any maiming. The problem is, I'm pretty sure if I ask Borin, he'll lie. He can't know I'm on to him. Even though he's in prison, he probably has people on the outside to do his bidding."

"You're a pretty smart princess," Blanche said.

"Thank you. So what do you think?"

"Why don't you leave this to me? You go ahead and get ready for dinner. I'm not hungry, and people are used to me skipping out on things. I'll look things over, and if I find anything useful, I'll let you know at the meeting tonight."

"You're the best," Ashley hugged Blanche.

Ashley headed toward her rooms, a little lighter on her feet. The drip drip drip, and the scritch scritch scritch, and the howling of the wind, didn't bother her as much. Having friends was the best. Too bad she hadn't found them sooner

👑👑👑

Ashley arrived first to the Jacuzzi room, her mind working overtime on how best to present her rescue plan to the others, so they'd go along with it. They were all stubborn and would insist on coming along. She sunk into the water, grateful for the warmth.

All this thinking led to profound exhaustion. It wrapped around Ashley like a heavy quilt, and the burbling lavender-scented water nearly lulled her to sleep. She forced her eyes open. Beyond the Jacuzzi room's tall windows, the sun hunkered down on the horizon like a pumpkin made of light. The golden statues of Prince Charming glowed orange, emphasizing the perfect planes of his face, which made Ashley a bit nauseous. She swam to the opposite side of the Jacuzzi, her back turned toward the windows.

Unfortunately, it wasn't as easy to escape the muraled depiction of Prince Charming on the ceiling. Even when she wasn't looking up, she could feel his eyes on her bare neck, judging her, scorning her. In other words, it was impossible to elude him even though he was hundreds of miles away, preparing for the Interkingdom Games. That is if he'd tired of the witches' affections by now.

Ashley gave serious consideration to having the mural painted-over and relocating the statues to the bottom of the river, where they might benefit the fish as a fun underwater obstacle course. But Cornell was still his castle. Not hers. For the first time, it hit her. What was going to happen to the rest of her life?

Once she had rescued the children and Charming had been punished, she had no purpose.

She'd always had a purpose before.

Originally it was to maintain sanity and good humor whilst enduring unending ridicule and occasional imprisonment from her Stepmonster and stepsisters.

Once she'd escaped her stepfamily, her purpose was to earn the love of her prince.

After discovering he was a sham who destroyed the lives of his spouses, his people, the local dragon community, and even the parsnip population, she put everything she had into revenge.

But then what?

Revenge hardly filled life with purpose. At least not for long if you wanted to avoid high blood pressure and worn-down teeth from all the nightly grinding. (There were no mouthguards in those days.) Eventually, one had to move past revenge and find another hobby. One with fewer physical downsides—like fire-dancing or yak-skiing.*

Maybe she had no choice but to take up the High Priestess on her offer and train as a witch. Perhaps she'd be good at it.

Or she could fall back on a life of crime with her formidable lock-picking abilities.

"Honestly, Ashley, focus!" she reprimanded herself.

The plan.

The biggest issue with said plan was that her friends would insist on coming along, which was not acceptable. She had to avoid any stupid gallantry, mostly from Layyin, but the others could also be difficult.

Gallantry from one's friends could be tiresome.

All she had to do was get them to agree that staying at the castle was the safest option. Once she returned with the children, they could all go to the Interkingdom Games and exposeCharming's sins to the seven kingdoms.

Which was the fun part, right?

Luckily Ashley had a secret weapon to help convince the others to stay behind. She smiled at her cunning.

👑👑👑

Everyone except Blanche had arrived.

Ashley poured chardonnay for Derek, Kai, Tressa, Layyin, and Sadira, all of whom had joined her in the Jacuzzi. She twisted the bottle into an ice bucket resting on the Jacuzzi's tile coping.

"Thanks," Derek said, taking a huge gulp. "Ah, ladies, did I need this."

"Me too," Kai said, flicking her tail on the water' surface in time with Ed Sheeran, who sang a song with lyrics about burning a lover, which honestly sounded like a good idea.

Tressa had braided her black hair into the shape of a cone, which protruded from her head like a gargantuan witch's hat. She spun, flinging her arm at the door, her hair slapping Derek's cheek. "Where's Blanche? Why is she always disappearing?"

"Watch it," Derek said, pushing the hair cone out of his face. "That thing is lethal."

"It keeps it from getting wet," Tressa grumbled. "You try drying 200 pounds of hair."

"Again, I say, cut it," Derek said. "I have scissors in my rooms." He formed a box with his hands, framing her face. "I'm thinking a sleek bob."

"I like scissors," Layyin said with a kind of twisted, manic smile. "Are yours extra sharp?"

They'd created a monster. A pain-seeking, overly-adventurous, bruise-loving monster. It wasn't going to be easy keeping Layyin at the castle for her own safety. Ashley might need more than logic and her secret weapon. Perhaps something involving ropes, a chair, and a legion of guards.

"Even though she's late, we ought to wait," Sadira said, ever the voice of reason. "And can that music please go away?" she shouted, raising her fist in the air. The music cut out, replaced by the blissful sound of burbling water.

Not for the first time, Ashley wished Max had given her something as useful as "voice-control over annoying magical spells." Although, maybe if Ashley were a witch, she could conjure such a spell herself. Now that was a solid reason to pursue an education in witchcraft.

"Where is she?" Layyin asked. "She wasn't at dinner, either."

"She's helping me with an important task," Ashley said. "I'm sure she'll be along soon."

"I'm in no rush," Derek said, sipping his wine. The frog prince tipped his glass toward the opposite side of the room. "Not that I'm not enjoying the scenery, but what's he doing here?"

Gerald, aka Ashley's secret weapon, sat on a golden bench in the corner; his cut-off breeches exposing a length of muscled calf, the towel draped over his shoulders barely covering the pattern of muscles on his bare chest.

"He's my ... uh ... consultant. Join us, Gerald," she said, only to be polite. Not because she wanted him nearer so she could examine the tiny flecks of gold in the bottomless depths of his dark brown eyes. Or observe the small crease in the middle of his full bottom lip. Or push that infernal curl away from his forehead.

Gerald pulled the towel tighter. "I can participate from here, Your Highness."

Ashley grinned. "Are you contradicting a royal order?"

"My Princess," Gerald said, "your tone struck me as more an invitation than an order."

"I didn't see you as the shy type," Ashley said.

"Get in here, man," Derek insisted. "How can we concoct ingenious plans when you're practically in another time zone?"

Kai wrinkled her brow. "What's a time zone?"

Derek sighed. "Never mind. You don't have them in the ocean, I guess."

"If you must know, I'm not a big fan of water," Gerald said. "Sorry, Princess Kai."

How was it her unwashed knight didn't reek like the inside of a soldier's boot? Ashley wrinkled her nose.

"Look, I shower okay?" he said as if reading her thoughts. Again. "I just don't like being submerged. Especially since ..."

"Since ...?" Ashley said.

He sighed. "When I was a boy, my parents threw me into a hole in the middle of a frozen river to see if I'd float. Landed on top of a hibernating ice dragon."

Derek nodded. "That old witch final final-exam."

"I take it you passed," Sadira said.

"I nearly died. But was able to convince the dragon to fly me out. From there, I walked a hundred miles to Ever After and got a job in the stables. Now that you have my life story, perhaps we should discuss the rescue mission. Unless you've rethought your ill-informed decision to come along despite the horrific odds against survival and instead remain safely at the castle with your fellow royals."

How could he out her like this? "Backstabber," Ashley muttered.

"What?" Layyin squealed. "Without us?"

"Hello?" Derek snapped his fingers in Ashley's face. "Are you insane? Don't you remember what happened last time you took off without us? Disaster! We had to come to rescue you. I still haven't been able to wash all the soot out of my favorite boxers."

Layyin pursed her lips at Derek. "Not that we didn't enjoy rescuing you."

"I'm ba-ack," Blanche sauntered in, a swirl of purple in a robe shimmering with a galaxy of silver stars. She untied the belt, and the fabric pooled around her feet, revealing a matching bathing costume that barely covered her "assets." "You didn't start without me, did you?"

"Hey, Blanche," Tressa griped. "Glad you could fit us into your schedule."

Blanche touched the water with a toe, then slid in next to Ashley. "I had an important task." Blanche looked at Ashley, then grabbed the bottle from the ice bucket, and drank deeply. "Ahhh. That hits the spot."

"Did you find out anything more about Grayson's Graven Images?" Ashley said.

"Sadly, no," Blanche said, shaking the empty bottle. "Hey, hot knight over there. Could I get some more wine?"

Gerald rose. "Might as well make myself useful."

As Gerald leaned over Blanche's shoulder to hand her a glass of wine, Derek couldn't take his eyes off Ashley's knight. A growl of possessiveness issued from low in her throat. Wait, that wasn't right. The knight. He wasn't her knight. Though she did dub him a knight, so in that respect, he was hers. But she didn't have the "conk-Derek-over-the-head-with-a-wine-bottle-for-ogling-her-man" kind of rights. Right?

Gerald smiled at Derek. "More wine, Sir?"

"Certainly," Derek said. "And keep it coming." He winked.