As our heroic trio journeyed to Druscilla's tent, to take Ashley's mind off the roiling waves of acid inside her belly, she contemplated what to do when they got there. Surely there would be armed guards. And even though Ashley carried a spear, she had no idea how to use it, rendering the whole concept of it pretty useless.

Ashley had never donned armor before and now had a whole new appreciation for people serving in her guard. She would never admit to Derek that he was right about the discomfort. It was like walking with a bucket on her head, vertical sticks strapped to her legs, and washtubs on her feet. The helmet muffled outside sounds, making the rasps of her heavy breathing even more pronounced. And the smell! A mixture of the sweat of the helmet's previous occupant combined with a tangy rust-like odor, which was probably dried blood from the prior occupant.

Not to mention the poor fit. The helmet kept slipping to the side whenever Ashley turned her head. It was hard enough to see because it only had a slit, so she had to keep adjusting her head to line her eyes up with the opening, making her dizzy. And the boots made her nostalgic for the glass slippers.

Ash finally discovered a use for the spear, though; it made a handy walking stick. Hobbling in the mud inside an ill-fitting tin can was so tricky, Ashley was convinced she should win the quest by virtue of accomplishing this one feat.

Trolls did not design armor. It had to be the same barbarians who invented high heels and corsets.

"Someone keeps moving Druscilla's tent farther and farther away," Derek said. "We've been trudging along for about five hours, and it's no closer. Maybe it's been spelled."

"Oh, come on, Derek. This is fun," Layyin said, stomping extra hard in the mud, slosh slosh slosh, sending clods of muck flying, a good portion of which adhered to Derek's armor.

"You child!" Derek veered away from Layyin.

"I'm no child," Layyin insisting, giggling so hard, Ashley glanced around to see if anyone noticed.

"You are. Better try to sound more masculine," Derek panted. "Guards don't giggle. They are powerful and macho and in control."

"Uh, huh. And they definitely don't whine about uncomfortable suits of armor or ugly hats. Right?"

Derek huffed. "Guards are men, and men don't giggle. It's undignified."

"Note to Derek, I am wearing armor, ergo, I am a female guard. And watch this, Terry-poo taught me some moves," she sliced the air inches from Derek's helmet with her spear.

"Watch that thing," Derek said, batting it away. "You could poke out an eye."

"Isn't that the idea?"

"Just act cool," Derek said. "No showing off."

"Okay, Mr. Humble."

"That's Prince Mr. Humble, thank you very much."

Layyin laughed, triumphantly tapping Derek's breastplate with her spear. "Your humility is legend."

"Like everything about me," Derek gloated.

"Guys," Ashley said, feeling like the lone adult in the company of toddlers. "Let's review the plan."

"We know the plan," Layyin said. "We convince the guards we're here on an important errand for the prince. They let us in. We rush in, taking full advantage of the element of surprise. Before Druscilla can toss any spells or chairs or curses or letter openers at us, I tie her up, and Derek plants a spear through her black heart. Done and done."

"That is not the plan," Ashley sighed, slipping in the mud. Layyin grabbed Ashley's arm, preventing her from toppling like a rotted tree.

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Derek chimed in, perking up a little.

"That's just because you're on spear duty," Layyin said.

"Correct," Derek said. "After what she and her father did to Steve/Seth/Sven and our other men, piercing her heart is fair compensation for what she did to mine."

Ashley cleared her throat. "The plan is, we convince the guards we are on a mission from the prince. We gather as much information from the guards and Druscilla about the status and location of Charming's potion and tonight's ceremony as possible, and only then we tie Dru up."

"That's a terrible plan," Derek said.

"I agree," Layyin said, "not nearly enough violence."

"Okay, once we have Druscilla hog-tied, you can knock her out with the butt of your spear, Derek, so she's out of the way."

"I'll try not to use the wrong end," Derek said sweetly.

"Look, if we're going to get rid of Marvy and Charming, we need to know what is going on. We may need Druscilla alive to get that potion from Marvy. She could be a valuable hostage. My plan is solid. We have three villains here. Our goal is to destroy them all," Ashley said. She would've clenched her fists, but that was impossible to accomplish inside the enormous sweaty gloves.

"Look," Derek said.

Ashley adjusted the helmet so she could see out the slit. They were about twenty yards from Druscilla's tent. In addition to three guards pacing around the entrance like worried parents, two huge animals stood tied to a post, festooned with pink ribbons and garlands of pink roses. "Oh, my unicorns!" Ashley cried.

"Is that a new curse?" Layyin said. "Like oh, my god? Or oh, dear? Or oh, no?"

"No!" Ashley said, wishing she could run in the armor. "Those are my actual unicorns! Louis and Louisa."

"You cannot go having a big reunion with your unicorns right now," Derek warned.

"Why not?"

Derek sighed. "Because you're a guard."

"I thought you said girls couldn't be guards," Layyin pointed out.

Derek spread his arms and pushed the two ladies behind him. "Shhh, you two. I shall do the talking. Also, Ashley, stop leaning on your spear. A dead giveaway that you're a fake. And by dead giveaway, I mean that if those men figure out we're not part of the regiment, we're dead. If we're going to do this with minimal bloodshed, we have to get past the men without causing a ruckus."

Ashley wanted to argue, but he was right. Louis and Louisa might recognize her voice, which was pretty shaky. It was hard enough wearing the armor without having to do anything in it other than exist. Hopefully, the potion hadn't worn off, or the magic didn't get used up faster because of the strain.

"Ho there," a guard said. "Why are you three not at your station?"

Derek cleared his throat. "Why are you not at your station?" he said in a well-practiced haughty tone.

"We are at our station, you imbecile. Go back. You are not needed here."

"We're here to replace you. Time for your deep-fried tarantula break."

"Tis not. Kedward, doesn't our shift end when the gong strikes seven?"

"Sure does, Rodney," Kedward said.

"Who are you? What are your serial numbers?" said the third guard.

"You don't need to see our serial numbers," Derek said, all wizardly as if he could control their thoughts. "These are not the droids you're looking for."

"What?"

"Sorry, got carried away. It was a line from a theatrical I saw a few months ago. Anyway, grab some grogs. We'll take over here."

"Not happening," Rodney said, raising his spear. "You're those Over the Rainbow guards, aren't you?"

"So?"

"So, it's the Ever After guards guarding the future princess."

"You crooked nosed knave," someone screamed from inside the tent.

"And thar she blows," Rodney said.

"The princess-to-be sure's got a set of pipes," Kedward said.

Rodney shook his metal head. "Really makes ya miss the old princess," he said.

"She was a peach, she was," Kedward agreed. "Never once screeched like a red fox in heat."

"But we just work here, Rodney said, lifting his spear and jamming it into the mud. "Now go, before we are forced to slay you. Right, Paris?"

"Let's slay 'em anyway," Paris said. "It's boring, and I could use a pick-me-up. Plus, it'll drown out Miss Future Princess of the Seven Realms in there."

"You're sure you won't just go?" Rodney said. "Hate to kill fellow guards merely for a moment of entertainment. Now, if ye weren't guards at all but instead impersonating guards, I'd have not a bit of hesitation about the killin'."

Derek took one stiff step back. "Ha, my fellow guard. You do amuse," Derek said, sounding not at all like a guard.

"We're sure," Layyin said, raising her spear, and lunged at Kedward, who turned and ran.

"En garde," Rodney said, swiping the air with a loud swoosh. This Rodney guy seemed to be a fan of gratuitous violence. Derek swished his spear and aimed for Rodney's head. Rodney easily parried.

Ashley faced Paris, brandishing her spear, but with no clue how to operate the thing, she jabbed at him, ended up striking the air, tripped in the mud, screaming in a decidedly non-macho tone. Fell on her backside. Her helmet popped off and landed right-side-up on the ground, like a bodiless head.

The fighting stopped. Two unicorns neighed and bucked. Three guards crouched in attack position. Her two fellow royals threw their hands up in the air.

Ashley lay stunned, like a pig in mud, wincing and waiting for inevitable slaughter. She wondered if death would hurt, but resigned, she closed her eyes and spent her last few moments on earth praying she wouldn't have to spend eternity stuffed inside an ill-fitting suit of armor. I'd even eat goat cheese, she offered.

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"Princess!" Rodney said, interrupting her negotiations with the Almighty. Ashley opened her eyes.

Rodney held out his gauntleted hand, while Louis and Louisa kicked, bucked, and yelled, "don't trust him. He helped bedazzle us like children's toys," Louis neighed.

"Louis and Louisa, I'm so happy you're safe," Ashley neighed back.

"You call this safe?" Louis said. "We look like carnival ponies."

"You look like a carnival pony," Louisa said. "I look like one of the Four Flying Horned Horses of the Apocalypse."

"How so?" Louis said.

Louisa neighed. "Because if we're decked-out like this, it means the world must be ending. I hereby proclaim myself to be a hellpony, and I shall rain down my fury on sinners and all persons who rob me of my dignity.

Ashley couldn't disagree. She gave Rodney's still-outstretched hand a long glance before accepting it, concluding that he probably wouldn't toss her into a pit of vipers or feed her to dragons. If he'd wanted, he could've stabbed her to death moments ago. "Thanks."

The three men knelt on one knee (no small feat in armor), removed their helmets, and bowed their heads.

"P...p...p...princess," Rodney said. "They told us you were dead and that Druscilla was to replace you."

"I was kind of dead. But only fairy tale dead. The kind where you can come back to life under certain magical conditions."

"Like true love's kiss?" Kedward said, blushing.

"Yes, or like an illicit potion made from the essence of innocent children. But that's neither here, nor there, nor anywhere. We need to get into that tent and pay Druscilla a visit."

As if on cue, the screaming from inside resumed. "You are a waste of skin. I'm going to have to speak to Charming about finding a better use for you. Like on top of a post as a warning to the other servants not to be utter idiots."

The three guards cringed, looked at one another, and seemed to come to a wordless agreement. They stood. "Be our guest," Rodney said, peeling back the tent flap.

"Don't leave us out here tied up," Louis begged.

"Guards, untie the unicorns," Ashley said.

"Gladly. They're a handful," Paris said.

"Louis, Louisa, don't attack the nice guards."

"Killjoy," Louisa said. "Where's Gerald?"

Ashley looked up at the star-filled sky. Gerald felt so close, yet so far away. Soon, she told herself. Soon I will be alone with my true love and his rock hard ... abs.* "He's on an errand. I'm sure you'll see him soon. Would you mind staying nearby? I might have a job for you?" Ashley said.

"If it means we don't have to fly that horrible witch to the closing/wedding ceremony, we'll do anything," Louis said.

"Thanks!" Ashley turned to Rodney, still holding the tent flap open. She nodded in thanks and beckoned her friends. "Come on, Derek, Layyin," Ashley said, donning her muddy helmet.

"The Prince Derek?" Paris said fanboying.

"The one and only," Derek said. Ashley could hear him winking.

"Wow. You're like my hero."

"I hear that a lot," Derek said. "When we're all done with our quest, I would love to take you out for a mead."

"I'll look forward to that," Paris breathed.

Ashley rolled her eyes. (The first time in a couple of chapters!) Leave it to Derek. During a quest, most people would pick up the pox or headlice or some sage advice from a bearded mage, but Derek picks up a hot guard!

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Despite a curtain of silks forming a sort of anteroom that blocked the sightline into the tent's central area, Ashley nearly threw up when she entered. It was as if someone had poured a kingdom's worth of perfume into the place. She urged herself not to throw up inside the helmet, which wouldn't be productive. At least the screaming had ceased, now only murmured tones issued from within. Ashley hazarded a peek from behind the silks, only to be greeted by an onslaught of pink.

Pink roses.

Pink ribbons.

Pink pillows.

Pink satin.

Pink cakes.

Do not throw up, Ashley reminded herself.

Once her eyes adjusted, Ashley could make out the forms of her ladies-in-waiting, all in various stages of dishevelment. Lank curls, gowns dusted with powders and splats of pastries. They all looked so bedraggled Ashley barely recognized them. A lump of sympathy and regret rose in her throat—these poor ladies. Ashley had resented them, ignored them, and abandoned them, and now they served Druscilla—a horrible bully. Ashley really should've taken more heed of their names. If only she hadn't been so uncomfortable being waited on. After being a servant for so many years, she hadn't wanted to order around other people. But now, because of her, these people were suffering.

Druscilla sat at a gilded vanity before a mirror. Ashley's stomach turned at the sight of her. Her hair was striped black and yellow, piled atop her head, and dotted with pink bows. She wore a pink gown, or, it may be more accurate to say the gown wore Druscilla. Picture a giant bee pollinating a begonia, and you'd pretty much be spot-on. Apparently, the gown she'd worn in the garden was no longer adequate—a hundred other rejected dresses composed a carpet of tulle enshrouding the tent's canvas floor.

"Have you still not finished polishing, you lame idiot?" Druscilla's shrillness cut through the air. In the far corner, one of the ladies polished a trophy as tall as she—a golden, garish, gargantuan depiction of a naked Prince Charming.

Of course! That prince never met a hunk of metal, stone, or plaster that he didn't end up melted, chiseled, or molded in his image.

"Am I wrong," Layyin whispered, "or did the trophy artist exaggerate the prince's private parts?"

"You're not wrong," Ashley said. "The artisan most likely wanted to keep his head attached to his body, so he very wisely inflated the size of Charming's 'family jewels.'"

"Are you going to answer me?" Druscilla called to the maid.

The woman paused her work and hung her head. "I am sorry, Your Royal Highness."

"Did I ask you to speak?" Druscilla spat. She turned to sweet Valeria, who stood at the horrible bully's right, with a pot of white makeup and a brush, swirling the pot's contents with disgust. "I cannot wait until Charming has been awarded his trophy. If you ask me, it's the best one ever designed by Grayson's Graven Images."

That name sounded familiar. Yes, the business in Ever After's books that had been paid so much money out of the kingdom's coffers.

"It's going to look magnificent in our bedroom in the Ever After the castle," Druscilla crowed. "We're making the window seat into a trophy cabinet. Too bad you didn't get to see any of the Games. Charming beat every contestant without breaking a sweat."

Though it was obvious that Charming won because no one would dare best the prince, Valeria wisely did not respond. Instead, she brushed on more of the makeup. Half of Druscilla's face was ghostly white, the other half, angry red pustules.

The burns hadn't improved Druscilla's usual "sunny disposition." "You idiot! Spread it evenly. I can't be made a princess looking like this."

"I'm trying, ma'am, but—"

Uh, oh.

Whack! Druscilla slapped the brush out of Valeria's hand. It clanged inside a nearby metallic shark-shaped tub. Valeria leaped back, tripping on some tulle. Druscilla raised a hand to zap Valeria, but nothing more than a trickle of zippy magic came out.

Valeria's eyes widened. "Ouch!"

"That will teach you never to address me as ma'am. It's 'your royal highness' or 'Princess.'"

"More like Your Bitchy Overlord," muttered a brave lady who thrust a needle vigorously into a cushion. Ladies-in-waiting generally embroidered cushions when they had no pressing duties. This was lucky because embroidered cushions were a decorating mainstay of the chic medieval castle.

"Get back over here, Valerie!" Druscilla yelled.

"It's Valeria."

"Should we go rescue that poor lady?" Layyin whispered.

"We shall," Ashley said. "One more moment to see if we learn anything about the potion."

"Valerie, get over here and finish my face!" Druscilla growled. "Soon, my powers will be back at full strength. Then none of you will dare defy me. Daddy gave me a special potion." She lifted a goblet to her mouth and sipped, then shuddered. "Tastes like dirt. Hard to get down.

"Anyway, it's going to be amazing when I am crowned princess of all the seven kingdoms. At last, I shall have my due. You all must be so pleased to be done with that pretender, Ashley. She was nothing more than a kitchen maid. A servant. But now your prince will finally have a woman who is his equal." She leaped out of the chair. "Valerie! Ugh! You got my makeup, which, may I remind you, is made from pigeon poop, in my mouth." Druscilla spat and wiped her lips on the poufy pink sleeve of her gown. "Fix my gown. Now." Another lady came over to sponge down the fabric. "Oh, give me that, you nincompoop." Druscilla grabbed the sponge, swatting the lady away. Tears fell down the poor thing's red cheeks.

Bile rose in Ashley's throat. This had to stop. Now. "Let's go in," Ashley said.

"Finally," Derek grumbled. "I thought we were going to have to stand here forever, breathing in the fumes and watching your bitchy sister abuse her servants."

"She's not my sister."

"Stepsister."

"I've been ready the whole time," Layyin said, clutching her spear. "Any last-minute instructions?"

"We go in and spear her to death," Derek suggested.

"No, I am in charge," Ashley said.

"Wuss," Derek said.

"So, what do we do?" Layyin said.

A grand idea formed herself in Ashley's mind. She knew exactly how to punish Druscilla. For the first time in hours, Ashley's spirits rose. "We run in, spears at the ready. Tie her up with her silks. Then we send her back from whence she came."

"Hell?" Derek said.

"No, she shall go back to the island with her mother and sister. Louis and Louisa know the way. Louisa once told me she and Louis were the ones who took my stepfamily there in the first place."

"But, won't she just escape again?" Layyin said.

"Not this time. Druscilla won't have Daddy to help her."