Meaningful quotes provided by your cherished author:

"A soulmate has the power to ransom your soul. With every false smile, rejected overture, and apathetic kiss, you find yourself holding your breath, your heart shriveling like a forgotten grape languishing on the vine. Each time he walks down the cobbled path from the front door, your soul in his pocket, you wonder whether you will see it again."—Morana Faucheux, Soulless Stepmonster

"Villains are made, not born."—Unknown

"Smart villains don't brag before ending the hero's life. Always kill first and make her corpse listen to your rant."—No Screenwriter Ever

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Generally, when one imagines one's demise, the backdrop is desolate, gloomy, and often putrid, with an ear-piercing electronic soundtrack throbbing in the background. A couple of settings that come to mind might be a cave with drippy walls, a guano lake, and hungry vampire bats hovering close by. Or a hellscape with bubbling lava, sulfurous fumes, and shrieking demons.

The least likely scenario would be a sunlit garden with sugary breezes stirring fruit-laden branches, the sleepy harmonies of birds and bees, and a carnival of flowers bursting in color.

Who's to say which is preferable? A hellscape may be less pleasant at the moment, but you'd be grateful for your ultimate demise, whereas a beautiful garden would be a reminder of all you're about to give up.

The truth is, people don't get to choose. Death doesn't take appointments.

Druscilla had seemed confident about her ability to kill with a mere snap of her evil fingers or a word of dark magic uttered from those overpainted lips, and from what Ashley had already witnessed, she had little doubt that her stepsister could fulfill her threat.

But bottom line, Ashley could not die. Not in a hellscape, or a bat-cave, or a garden. Because innocent children depended on her survival, and now that she'd glimpsed that horrible room, she felt the children's plight as viscerally as a python constricting her chest.

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"Gather round and hear my tale," Druscilla commanded, spreading her mirrored skirts in a neat circle while maintaining her iron grip on the golden egg. No one moved. "I said to gather. Or else."

"Or else what?" Derek said. Ashley elbowed him in his (very firm) side. "What? Maybe death would be better than sticking around for her bor-ring 'tale.' I'm just looking for the facts so I can make an informed decision."

"Hold your questions till the end," Druscilla said. "It's not like I have an eternity to kill you. And it's not like you have an eternity."

"To be honest, it does feel like an eternity?" Derek said.

Dru looked at Ashley, shaking her head. "I really am going to have to kill him first."

"Good," Derek piped up, "but whatever you do, don't touch the face. I want to be an attractive corpse."

"Your face will be indistinguishable from ground mutton when I'm finished with you. Or when I finish you!" She laughed at her bad joke. "Honestly, I could've done stand-up if I wasn't such a talented magician!"

"Move it, ladies, find your places," Derek said. "I cannot tolerate leaving an unsightly cadaver." He cringed.

The royals scattered upon the prince's request. While he didn't always act with the wisdom of a centenarian grandmother, he did have a point about fact-finding before decision-making. Ashley needed time to ponder the next steps, so she used the momentary anarchy caused by a group of royals not used to being ordered to "gather round" to sort her thoughts and plan the next steps.

To have any chance of completing their mission and rescuing those kids, they needed information. The length of time they had to gather clues was limited to the duration of Dru's monologue, which unfortunately meant the more prolonged the gloat, the better.

The tortures a heroine must endure!

Ashley had read enough villain speeches in bad novels to know that bad guys tended to let their guard down and overshare in the hope of impressing their audience, usually a single doomed hero. But if you thought about it, it was pretty lame. What use was it to have an "about to be dead" person know of your accomplishments?

Anyway, back to Ashley's fact-finding strategy.

1. Act impressed. The more Dru thought she had a rapt audience, the more she'd reveal.

2. Act doomed. The more Dru believed she had already won, the less suspicious she'd be.

3. Ask questions. To extend the fact-finding time, steer the conversation in helpful ways, and throw Dru off her rehearsed remarks.

4. Observe. Examine physical premises for possible escape routes.

1. Possible limitations to Dru's powers. Did overuse of magic make her tired, or, even better, cause her to burst into flame?

2. How her magic worked and whether it could be used (borrowed?) by a non-magical user.

3. Location of children, how to get to them, and how to return home.*

As the royals settled cross-legged on the grass, the sun beating on their shoulders, bees zipping this way and that, Ashley surveyed the garden for possible escape routes or clues as to where the children might be hidden. Her eyes kept flicking toward the glass forms in the distance. From this vantage point, she could make out their shapes—rectangular boxes. She chewed on her lip; why did that seem familiar? Her brain felt fuzzy. Index finger tapping against her lips, Ashley pretended her seating choice ranked up there with the genuinely momentous decisions of kings. Decisions like: Should we declare war on the neighboring kingdom? Ought we behead that pesky cousin trying to usurp the throne? Is it time for a younger, hotter queen?

Dru's impatience prickled like needles along Ashley's neck. Thinking it best not to poke the proverbial dragon any longer, she plopped down beside Layyin, as a bee alit on the back of the princess's hand.

"Bees are quite lovely," Layyin said. "And fuzzier than I imagined."

"Didn't you once tell us you were allergic to bee stings?"

"Yeah, I blow up like an air mattress," said Layyin, formerly the Princess of Bruises.

Derek, seated on Layyin's other side, leaned as far from the bee as he could without falling in Sadira's lap. "Maybe stop petting it."

Layyin rolled her eyes. "Dear, dear, Derek, I've learned that you need danger to truly live."

"You also need to be alive to live."**

He makes a good point," Ashley said, one eye on Dru to determine her level of impatience. Was that smoke coming out of her ears or a localized fog?

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Dru fixed her eyes on Ashley. "And now I shall tell you of my grievances against "Her Highness. Imagine being me," Dru began, "my stepfather died, leaving my mother, sister, and me penniless. Upon that very day, creditors descended upon the manor like vultures. Turned out, "Papa" had quite a gambling habit. Mother had to remarry to put food in her children's mouths. She printed a "husband wanted" ad in the "For Nobles Only" classified section of the Seven Kingdoms Tribune. Eventually, a messenger upon a noble steed arrived with a letter from the kingdom of Ever After with an offer of marriage from your father.

"There I was, a fatherless girl, taken from all I knew to another land—forced to leave behind my friends, my beloved doll, my favorite blanket, my room, my garden, my servants, my entire way of life. Mother had always told me I was meant for greatness. That my blood held a power coveted by kings, and one day, I would take my rightful place as a princess, a queen, an empress.

"But when that old life shattered, would these predictions still come to pass? Mother said that adversity was like an artist's clay; it built form, created armor, and rendered a sort of immortality. I wanted to believe her, but each night, under cheap blankets, clinging to a "borrowed' doll, I cried myself to sleep."

"My doll," Ashley said.

"You had everything!" Dru cried. "Your home, your father, your bed. The least you could do was share your stupid doll."

"It was my mother's," Ashley whispered.

"Which is why I beheaded the stupid thing and left it in your bed."

"That's cruel," Tressa said.

"Do not judge me, hair girl," Dru said. "I grew tired of Ashley's whining about the stupid doll day and night."

"You could've just returned it."

"One might say that I did.

"Anyway, years passed until one day the prince announced a ball where he would find a wife. At last, I had hope that my mother's prediction would finally come true. Charming would marry me, and I would be a princess. We worked hard to make everything perfect that night. But an interloper arrived at the ball, captivating the prince. No one knew who she was, but I figured it out. It was my stepsister, a mere servant who came to trick the prince. That night I once again cried into my pillow.

"Of course, you know the rest of the story. Where I cut off my toe to snag the prince, but even that didn't work. You left, became a princess, and banished my mother, sister, and I to an island to live out our days in poverty and anguish.

"I didn't banish you. That was one of Charming's wedding gifts to me. He thought it would make me happy if he imprisoned my oppressors. I tried to talk him out of it."

"Liar! But that doesn't matter. Now you know why I hate you," Dru said.

"I'm truly sorry all that happened to you," Ashley said. "I never meant to hurt you or anyone."

"That's because you're nothing but a Mary Sue. Bland. Boring. Banal. The prince deserves better. He needs an equal—someone who will stand by his side and do what must be done to maintain the throne. I will hurt you, sister, and I promise to enjoy it. Anyway, we shan't linger on the beginning of my tale, because what's important is what came after. How the birth of my happily ever after marked the death of yours.

"Not long after we were sent away, my father, the Marvelous Marveloni, caught wind of our captivity. He speaks to the wind, you know. Turns out, it's quite the gossip. So many things one can learn from a long-winded breeze once you know how to listen. As soon as Daddy learned of my existence and location, he came to rescue me."

"What about your mother and sister?"

"They're still there. Daddy only wanted me because I was his blood."

"You left them behind?" Derek said. "Brutal."

"Thank you," Dru said. "Daddy then magicked us into this dimension, the home of his secret lair, and instructed me in the ways of magic. Magic I shall now use to destroy you. That's about it."

Ashley gulped. So much in that story for her to process. But for now, what she needed to focus on was information, not old grievances. She decided to start with flattery. "From what I've seen so far, you were an excellent student."

Dru's eyes brightened. "Oh, yes."

"What kind of magic did you learn?"

"A lot! But it turned out I was a genius at shapeshifting. That's what gave me the idea on how I could ruin your life as you ruined mine. Not that shapeshifting isn't without its risks."

"I don't think I ruined—"

"Don't argue with me." Dru held up her hand, palm facing out. "It isn't up for discussion. This is my monologue, I have the power, and you have no say, Your Almost-Not-Royal Highness. Anyway, I hatched my plan. First, I took on the shape of Scarletta, one of the many ladies-in-waiting you ignored."

"I didn't ignore them. Not on purpose. Having servants made me uncomfortable."

"Are you crazy, woman?" Derek said. "How do you even brush your teeth without full-time staff?" Ashley glared at him.

"Hmmm, maybe Derek isn't so bad after all. He is rather cute. I could keep him around. For science! Continuing on—you were never meant to be a princess. How embarrassing for Charming when his bride refused to act normal. So many people in his inner circle, like Dad and Borin, tried to get him to change his mind about you.

"At first, we thought to arrange for Charming to discard you. We thought that would be particularly devastating. Dad conjured a little love spell, so you'd fall for that stupid groom. Show Charming that you were a cheat. It was all working well.

Oh, my gosh, I was under a love spell? Gerald and I weren't real? Ashley resisted the urge to roll up in a ball and give up. The anticipation of her reunion with Gerald was one of the main things keeping her going. After rescuing the children and her friends, of course. But this revelation so startled her that she missed the next part of Dru's story.

Whatever. Even if Gerald and I started with a love spell, what we have is real, and I'll be damned if I allow a half-witted, arrogant, cruel, stepsister to ruin it. She folded her hands in her lap and pasted on a placid, victim-like expression.

Druscilla yawned, then continued. "But when Charming left, I grew restless to be rid of you. So the day you flew the unicorns, I tried to shoot you down with a magical arrow, but you didn't have the decency to die."

"That was you?" Ashley snarled, balling up her fists before she realized she was supposed to be impressed. "I mean, of course, that was you. Sorry I didn't die properly after you put in so much effort and all."

"What a spoilsport, Ashley. And you still wonder why Druscilla hates you?" Derek said.

"Exactly! Anyway, when that didn't work, I became rather desperate. I hid in the very walls of the castle, waiting for an opportunity to reveal itself. And soon it did—your little plot to destroy the prince's life. How perfect. I took Blanche's form and listened in on your planning sessions and reported everything to Charming and waited for his reply. But when your idea to go off on this ridiculous quest arose, the answer fell in my lap. I suggested you all go together. Rather brilliant of me if you think about it. You disappear on a stupid mission, and no one is the wiser. I kill you all, join the prince at the Games, and live happily ever after as the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms." She held the egg over her head and bowed, nearly dropping it. Derek gasped. No one clapped. "Applause," she demanded, bobbling the egg as she regained her balance.

Enthusiastic applause ensued.

"Your brilliance knows no bounds," Ashley said. "But, Druscilla, we are sisters. Why would you do this?"

"You were never anything to me. Nothing more than a pesky mosquito. A thorn in my pert behind. A fly tapping against the windowsill waiting to be squashed with my swatter. Still, I must admit It warms my heart to hear you acknowledge my brilliance."

"I do have a quick question before you swat us with your swatter."

"What now?" she exhaled in frustration.

"Why didn't you just take my form and get rid of me?"

"I do like the way you think," Dru said. "But I didn't want to end up stuck as you forever."

"Couldn't you just change back?"

"I would've had to keep your form for a while, and the longer you're in another shape, the greater the likelihood you'll get stuck there. Did your mother ever tell you not to frown because your face could get frozen in that position? Oh, wait, never mind, your mother didn't have the sense not to die. Well, the gist is that shapeshifting is tricky magic. And there is always a chance you might not be able to shift back, especially if you run out of dragon blood. Of all the people I didn't want to be for the rest of my life, it was you. Having to look at your face in the mirror every day? The horror."

"You need dragon blood to transform? What about when you first showed up? You were like three people in a matter of minutes."

"A magician never tells her secrets. Good try, though."

"I get it. You're probably too tired to do any magic for us right now. I mean, that relocation spell looks like it took a lot out of you."

Dru frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You're pale. And you keep yawning. And that egg looks really heavy. I imagine that magic on that scale must take it out of you. I mean, like a less powerful magician would probably burst into flame casting that big of a spell. Relocating so many people at once. Huge!" Dru shuddered, and her eyes clouded over at the mention of bursting into flame. Had Ashley hit a nerve?

"So enchanters can ... um ... overheat if they take on more magic than they can ... um ... chew?"

Dru narrowed her eyes. Maybe Ashley was pushing too hard. "I am way too powerful for such things. And I have Daddy's Essence d'enfant. I had a swig of it before coming here."

"Essence d'enfant?" Ashley swallowed hard. Even with her limited knowledge of French, she had an idea what it might mean. "What's that?"

"A little potion Dad cooks up. Keeps us young and gives us tons of energy." Dru waggled a finger at Ashley. "I see what you're doing. Trying to pump me for information about magic."

"You got me," Ashley said, trying to force a blush. "I am so blown away by all your skill; I want to die understanding everything that caused my demise."

"I suppose you won't be able to tell my secrets once you're dead. No harm, no foul."

"None at all," Ashley smiled. "Oooh, how did you get us here from the mountaintop? That had to be hard."

"It's not hard once it's all set up. That's what exhausted me. This part of the garden within the boundaries of the Charming topiary is a magical circle that corresponds to the one at the mountaintop. It enables me to invoke translocation magic with a special word."

The pasta word. What was it? Spaghetti? Ravioli? "Impressive. What was the word again?"

"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you," Dru grinned.

"I thought that was the plan."

"You're more amusing than you used to be."

"You mean when I was an undernourished servant?"

"Exactly. But I'm not telling you the word."

"You already said it in front of us."

"But no one remembers after going through the vortex."

"Is that the same way you got from the room with the children to the garden?"

"Oh, heavens, no. This realm has its own physical laws. All I had to do was cut an opening in the protoplasm inside the room and went straight through into the garden. Now enough. It's time for you to meet your eternal resting places, so I can head back to the house and finish getting ready for the Interkingdom games. Oh, no!" Druscilla gasped, suddenly tossing the egg from arm to arm. "No, no, no."

"What's happening?" Ashley said.

"Nothing!" Dru screamed. "We're at the good part where I kill you, go to the Interkingdom games, wow the crowd, marry the prince, and live happily ever after. Ouch!"

Dru set the egg on the grass and stood over it, hiding it beneath her mirrored skirts. Something smelled weird, like burnt silk. Smoke curled from beneath Dru's hem.

Derek licked his lips. "Wait!" I have a question," he said.

"I wasn't serious about taking questions at the end." She rocked back and forth as if trying to avoid too much time on one leg. "I have to pick out the right shoes to meet my Prince. I'm thinking something with a tapered toe, so my feet look smaller."

"Excuse me?" Derek said.

"Silence," Dru growled.

"It's just—"

Druscilla spun on him. "What?"

"Your dress is on fire," he said.