The young woman sitting in the chair on the other side of the desk clutched her sketchbook nervously. "Uh, three years at Parsons."

Robert glanced down at the resume in front of him. "Parsons School of Design. Where's that, Greenwich Village?"

"Um, yeah. I lived nearby."

"Oh? Are you from New York?" Robert was pretty sure she wasn't.

"Uh, no, I grew up in Lenexa, Kansas."

A Kansas girl. Robert smiled to himself. "So when did you graduate?"

"I, uh, graduate next month. All my coursework is done."

"I see. And what made you decide to apply to Andalasia Fashions?"

"Well..." The woman hesitated, then flipped open her sketchbook. "I've always liked children's fashion. You can see here the designs I came up-"

"Save that for later." Despite having dated a fashion designer for five years and later marrying another, Robert had zero idea what did or did not make up a good fashion sketch. "I'm more interested in the technical details of your background. Did you specialize in children's fashion at Parsons?"

"Yes. Uh, Parsons has a fashion show, y'know, for graduating seniors." She looked at him for confirmation.

Robert hadn't actually known that, but he nodded encouragement.

Emboldened, she continued. "I, uh, have a DVD I made of the event. My models were all pre-teens." She slipped a slim disk from her sketchbook. "If you want to see?"

Again, Robert would have no idea what to look for, but liked the fact that she'd gone through the effort. "Put it on the desk."

As she did so, a movement caught Robert's eye. All of the offices in the studio were open affairs, with no walls to speak of, and Robert's desk faced the elevators. Out of one stepped a heavyset man in a smart blue business suit. His eyes met Robert's and he smiled and nodded. Robert smiled back and held up five fingers. The heavyset man nodded his understanding and sat on a chair near the elevators.

"Well..." Robert glanced down at the resume. "Margaret. Is it Margaret? Maggie?"

"Peggy."

"Well, Peggy, you seem to have the needed background, although I wish there had been some more work experience. But I have a more important question to ask you. Do you play a musical instrument?"

The woman's eyes widened slightly. "A... a musical instrument?"

"You know. Guitar, violin, that sort of thing."

She blushed slightly. "No."

"Can you sing?"

"Oh no, not a note, I'm terrible." The woman was looking increasingly apprehensive. "Why?"

Robert smiled. "You'll find out."

As if on cue, another woman appeared by the desk. She was wearing a simple tan skirt and blouse along with a wide smile, and they all looked beautiful on her. "Robert, who is this?"

Robert stood up. "Giselle, I'd like to introduce you to Peggy."

"Peggy!" Giselle reached out and shook the rising woman's hand enthusiastically. "Welcome to Andalasia Fashions."

"Uh, thank you." The woman held our her sketchbook. "Are you the one to show these to?"

Giselle took the sketchbook and quickly flipped through it. "Oh, these are lovely. You clearly love children."

"Yes!" Peggy blinked, as if surprised by the forcefulness of her response. "I've always loved dressing up my cousins. Being a children's fashion designer is what I've always wanted to do."

Giselle grinned. "You love it?"

Peggy nodded. "I adore it."

"Adoration. That's what it's all about." Giselle smiled widely, then began singing. "A child is someone to adore."

Peggy's mouth dropped open slightly. "Yeah, I, I guess you could put it like that."

Robert stepped back, no longer needed. The whole studio, he noted, had come to a standstill, looking at Giselle. One young man was picking up a guitar, while a nearby woman was putting a flute together. They knew what was coming next.

Giselle, seemingly oblivious to all this, continued singing. "A child's smile is what you work hard for!"

A trill of the flute followed. Peggy's mouth was now fully hanging open. Giselle put the sketchbook down on the desk, grabbed Peggy's hand, and drew her into the center of the studio. The song got underway in earnest, with everyone in the studio joining in.

Almost everyone. Robert walked over to the elevator lobby, where the large man sat watching the event with a great deal of amusement.

Robert put out his hand. "It's good to see you, Nathaniel."

"And you, m'lord." Nathaniel rose and shook Robert's hand forcefully. "Does this happen often?"

"The singing? Quite frequently." Robert looked over to see Giselle twirling in place in front of Peggy while two pigeons draped a measuring tape that had somehow found its way into the lyrics over Giselle's shoulders.

"Do... do all your applicants have to go through this?"

"Not all." Robert escorted Nathaniel back to his desk. "I make certain they have the necessary background, then hand them off to Giselle. Some of them she'll dismiss right away. With some others it takes a while for a song to emerge. Peggy's started right away, so that's encouraging for her."

"Do they all... participate?" Nathaniel sat in the chair Peggy had previously occupied, watching as Peggy allowed a bolt of red cloth to be put in her hands.

"Most of them. Some applicants don't involve themselves at all, and we've even had a couple leave before the song was done."

Nathaniel nodded. "But those who do become part of the song also become a part of the company?"

Robert chuckled. "It's not exactly standard hiring practice, I acknowledge. But it's been highly effective so far."

"I see." Nathaniel looked back over at Robert. "Now I know the secret of your company's success."

"Well, we're not nearly as successful as you've become." Robert gestured at a copy of the Times he'd been reading. "I understand they want you to do a cable show."

"My agent has had some discussions about it, nothing more. I'm not certain I'd welcome the... scrutiny such a position would draw."

Robert understood. Nathaniel had no history in New York beyond a year or so ago. While Robert had helped Nathaniel invent a plausible identity, any investigative reporter would uncover a slew of unanswerable questions.

Pushing aside Peggy's resume, Robert clasped his hands on the desk. "Anyway, thanks for coming Nathaniel."

"My pleasure." Nathaniel inclined his head. "May I ask what it is you need, m'lord?"

"Well, for starters, please call me Robert."

Nathaniel considered this for a moment. "As you wish, m'lord."

Snorting softly, Robert continued. "I was hoping you could help Giselle and I with a delicate situation."

"I am at your service. How may I be of assistance?"

"Well..." Robert hesitated. "Giselle is having tremendous difficulty becoming pregnant."

Nathaniel reddened. "Is that so?" he mumbled weakly.

Robert chuckled. "Well, and here I thought they'd purged the Andalasian from your soul."

"M'lord?"

"You and my wife share one Andalasian trait: you're both incredibly prudish about discussing sex in any context."

"Yes, well..." Nathaniel's blush deepened. "It's not something one discusses in polite company."

"You bring the subject up in your book."

"That was in the context of giving advice - how to keep desire from overwhemling rational analysis."

"Well then." Robert nodded firmly. "That's what I'm asking for. Rational advice."

Robert waited. After a few moments, Nathaniel's blush faded away. Nathaniel cleared his throat, then tenatively spoke. "I'm... not certain my advice is germaine. Might one seek out a doctor?"

"One might." Robert sighed. "We have. I'll spare you the details on how long it took me to convince Giselle to see a gynecologist. As far as she can tell, Giselle is perfectly capable of bearing children. And, as Morgan demonstrates, I have no problems in that area."

"I... I am glad to hear it." Nathaniel, Robert noted, was growing more comfortable. His ability to quickly adapt had always been one of his major strengths. "Might one then counsel patience? I understand that, upon occasion, these things can take time to accomplish."

"It's been almost two years." Robert resisted the temptation to recall the week-long whirlwind where he'd started by planning to propose to one woman and ended by marrying another. It was both pleasant and painful to recall, and right now he wanted to focus his mind. "There are still medical procedures we can try, but before we do, I wanted to talk to you about another explanation: that it's because Giselle is from another world."

Nathaniel frowned and his gaze turned inward. Robert sat back to give him space. He looked out into the studio, where Peggy was standing on a table in the center of the room, belting out some lyrics, her hands held high over head. She finished the song, and the room exploded into applause. Peggy looked around, a stunned smile on her face. Giselle help her step down and hugged her, and even over the applause Robert could hear, "Welcome to Andalasia Fashions!"

Smiling slightly, Robert turned his attention back to Nathaniel. He was still thinking hard, and in a moment shook his head. "I do not know the answer, m'lord. I never had Narissa's talent for magic, and she never tried to educate me on the subject. I don't know the nature of the process that allowed the four of us to enter your world, or how that magic... changed us."

Robert grimaced. He'd been expecting as much, but he'd still held a sliver of hope. "So there's nothing you can think of that might help?"

"Well..." Nathaniel hesitated. "Did... did your Nancy ever express a desire for children?"

Robert surpressed a wince; the memory of what he'd done to Nancy still hurt, even after all this time. "Um... well, yes. We never discussed it in detail, but she did talk about wanting to give Morgan a brother or sister one day."

"Then, might one surmise that if she married Prince Edward, that she too might be trying to get pregnant?"

Robert blinked. He'd never even thought of that. "Yes, I suppose she might."

"And one might also surmise that Nancy would not harbor m'lady Giselle's... reluctance to address such matters directly. Nancy would also have resources available to her that are not available in New York."

"Yes." Robert sat up a little straighter. "Then... then she might already know the answer to our problem."

"Indeed, sir."

"Would... would whatever solution she'd found work here?"

Nathaniel snorted. "Did you just not witness the spell m'lady cast upon the workers here? Surely no one could doubt that the magic of Andalasia is still strong and potent even in New York."

"Well... point to you." Not to mention, Robert had actually witnessed Narissa transform herself into some kind of creature. That was another memory he didn't spend a lot of time dwelling on. "So, then... how do we contact her?"

Nathaniel shrugged. "That, m'lord, I cannot fathom. As I said, I know nothing of how to use magic. But you know someone who does."

Robert looked over to where Giselle was showing Peggy a child's dress that was currently being measured by a rat and a pigeon. "Perhaps I do. She doesn't think of it as magic, though."

"Surely whatever m'lady does is as effective as magic, is it not? And I know communication between my world and yours is possible; Narissa spoke often to me before she came over herself."

"That's good to know." Robert spoke slowly. "But Nancy may not want to talk to me. I tried to call her once. The phone actually rang a couple of times, but she didn't answer. Every time after that it went directly to voice mail before her service was cancelled for non-payment. So she may not be in the mood for a phone call or a message via magic mirror."

"That is true." Nathaniel rose to his feet. "Then I can only think of one solution."

"Oh?" He stood up as well. "And that is?"

Nathaniel spoke in a forceful voice. "Robert, you must travel to Andalasia yourself." With that, he turned and walked back to the lobby, his dramatic exit spoiled only by the fact that he had to wait a good two or three minutes for an elevator to arrive.

Robert waited until the elevator doors closed. Then he sat heavily in his chair and began to think.

~*~

(end part 1)