Claire was digging through the mud on her hands and knees when something cold and spherical hit the back of her head, erupting into white fragments that speckled the dirt around her. She wheeled around furiously and threw a mudball in retribution. Her target sputtered and wiped his eyes.

"Jesus, Claire! There could have been a rock in there!"

"Yeah, well same for your snowball. What's the big idea?"

He nodded to a horse-drawn sleigh.

"Just getting your attention. I'm ready to go into town. You coming?"

She turned away to conceal her expression.

". . . No. I think I'll sit this one out."

Owen cocked his head.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"What's wrong."

Claire sighed and flicked the mud from her hands, looking up at the grey sky.

"I lost my wedding ring."

Owen shrugged.

"I'll buy you a new one. Come on."

She stood up, visibly vexed.

"Owen, this is a big deal! I lost the symbol of our unity."

He blinked.

"And I can't buy you a new one because . . ."

"Because it's sentimental!" she barked, "There are billions of rings in the world, but only one that belongs to us!"

"Two, including mine."

Claire rolled her eyes.

"Owen, can you please not treat this like a joke? I'm starting to worry that I'll never see it again."

"It'll turn up."

She huffed, creating a puff of vapor.

"Stop being so nonchalant about this! It's my wedding ring!"

Owen winced.

"Don't be mad, Claire . . ."

She sighed and fell to her knees, holding her forehead in grimy palms.

"I'm not mad at you; I'm mad at myself. I really screwed up."

Owen walked over calmly and sat down beside her. He cradled her in his arms, rocking her back and forth as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Claire, it's just a piece of metal. Real marriage is more than a hoop. It's about love, sharing . . . eternal suffering . . ."

Claire groaned.

"I'm a terrible wife . . ."

He shook his head firmly.

"You're not: trust me. This past year has been the happiest one of my entire life- granted, it wasn't sunshine and rainbows before that, but still."

Claire buried her face in his shoulder.

"But the ring was gold and everything . . ."

"We can buy another one, no problem. That's one perk of being a king, I suppose."

Claire sighed.

"The villagers must think you made a huge mistake by marrying me."

Owen smirked.

"Well, they'd be wrong. You're not just some peasant girl, Claire. You're the one person who was willing to give me a chance, and that makes you better than all the villagers combined. I wouldn't trade you for any of them."

"Not even someone prettier than me?"

"If such a person existed, I would not. You're too hard on yourself, Claire. It's not the surface that counts. You know that. You'd have to, to marry me."

She rolled her eyes.

"That's hardly comparable. You changed, I didn't."

"I wouldn't want you to change."

"Well, that makes one person. I'm pretty sure the villagers would disagree."

"The villagers are idiots," Owen laughed, "They bought that nonsense about the castle being hidden by clouds all those years-"

"Only because the truth is much more ludicrous."

Owen chuckled.

"You tried to explain it to them once, as I recall, and they thought you were crazy. Crazy for telling the truth: imagine that!"

Claire lifted her shoulders and spoke through her teeth with reluctance.

"I could try again . . ."

Owen quirked a brow.

"You wanna tell them I was a dinosaur for fifteen years? Be my guest."

She rolled her eyes.

"Point taken. I imagine being honest would only make things worse."

Owen clapped his hands and stood up, helping Claire to her feet as well.

"Agreed. Do you wanna come into town now, or are you gonna play in the mud all afternoon?"

She wiped her palms on her apron.

"I'll come, but I have to change into something more presentable."

He gave a quick nod and turned to the sleigh.

"Cool. I'll wait here."

She grabbed him by the arm.

"Oh, no you don't. You're changing too. You still have mud on your face."

Owen sighed.

"How rich do we have to be before we can walk into town covered in mud? You know, I've heard of royals who wear whatever they want, and nobody questions them."

"That has nothing to do with money. It's a reaction born of fear or respect."

"So how do we get respect?"

"By not looking like a pig. Come on!"

He followed her into the castle, grumbling all the way.

Later, they rode into town on the sleigh pulled by their horse, Magnifique, who was nearly invisible against the snow. From a distance, one might swear that the stallion was nothing but a pair of floating, black eyes. Claire nestled herself in the crook of Owen's arm as he manned the reins. They were both bundled up in multiple layers of fur. It had begun to snow, and the wind was picking up as well. Claire batted her eyes as they were pelted with snowflakes.

"This has been a bad winter," she mumbled through her scarf.

"I'll say! I can't imagine how the others are faring."

"Maybe we should bring them up to the castle."

Owen bit his lip.

"I was thinking about it, and we'd have to remove all artifacts from the time when the castle was magic."

Claire shivered.

"I know. I'm worried about that, too. What if we miss something? We'll have to be careful."

"And we'll have to warn our guests about the forest. If they wander off and upset the fairies, we'll have more dinosaurs on our hands, and I think we both know how well the remaining humans would take it."

Claire hesitated before making her next remark.

"What about James? He's pretty levelheaded. I'm sure he'd listen to us."

Owen hummed.

"He might, were it not for the fact that he has a vendetta against me, or more specifically, me as a dinosaur. He still thinks I ate his friend's soul."

"So tell him it was you the whole time."

Owen frowned.

"Claire, your plan is for me to explain to James that I'm the same person he used to play with as a child, who he thinks was replaced by a monster that steals voices to deceive humans into believing he's one of them. Do you see the problem here?"

She sighed.

"Fine. It was just a suggestion."

A pause.

"Can you tell your horse to slow down?" she hissed.

Owen blinked.

"You're mad at me."

"I'm not."

"You are. I can tell. Look, I'm not trying to bash your ideas, but don't forget that James literally shot me with an arrow once, so I'm a little hesitant to let him in on our secret. If he turns on us, I could be killed, Claire."

"I said I'd never let anyone hurt you."

"I know, but it's hard to keep those kinds of promises. Better to avoid danger altogether."

There was a long, heavy silence. Claire watched the striped trunks zip past at different speeds, depending on the distance. When she was sure that Owen was not going to continue the conversation, she decided to take up the chore instead.

"Owen . . . You know I don't still have feelings for James, right?"

He shifted uncomfortably, unsure of where to look.

"I guess . . ."

"I really don't. I promise."

Owen exhaled.

"I know. I just worry sometimes, because of how I was and . . . and how he wasn't that."

"What?"

"You've never hated him, but there was a time when you hated me."

Claire scowled.

"Owen, I've been pissed at James plenty of times. That's how I met you in the first place!"

"Yes, but you were mad that he was engaged to someone else, and now that Marie's gone . . ."

She crossed her arms.

"So you think I'll just go after anyone as soon as they're available? If that were true, I'd be out on the town already, because she died of something catching, you know."

Owen looked away.

"Claire, I didn't mean it like that. I'm not worried because I doubt you; I'm worried because I don't have faith in myself. I mean, for over a decade, I was certain that I'd never truly fit in with normal people as long as I lived. You changed my mind, but every once in a while, I wonder if it's all wishful thinking. I may be human now, but the dinosaur part of my life did happen, and as much as I never want to revisit it, I'm afraid this happiness will be taken away."

Claire put her hand on his knee.

"It won't, Owen. I promise. No matter what, I'm with you 'til the end, and you can bet your ass that I'm telling the truth, one hundred percent. I'll love you forever, and that's never going to change, even if you do."

Owen sighed and turned back to the road, eyes empty.

"I'd like to believe you, but it seems like every time I get my hopes up, something bad happens."

"Not this past year."

He shook his head ominously.

"All the more reason to be afraid. If I've been happy for this long, whatever's coming next will be worse than anything that preceded it."

Claire touched his arm, though neither of them could feel the contact through their winter wardrobe.

"Owen, it breaks my heart that you're used to suffering, but I promise that as long as I'm alive, I'll make sure you never- DEER!"

Owen jumped as she pointed at a sled in the middle of the road, which was carrying a dead doe. He tugged on the reins, and the horse went into a frenzy, rearing up as far as the traces would allow. Claire grabbed Owen fearfully as the carriage slid back and tilted a little before slamming to the ground. They attempted to speak to the horse in soothing tones, but sounded more panicked than anything. The animal calmed down eventually, and when he did, a man came jogging out of the forest. He removed his scarf and waved at the sleigh's passengers.

"Claire! Owen! Hi!"

Claire gave an exasperated sigh.

"James, you can't leave your kill in the middle of the road. It's hard to see in all this snow, and we could have been in an accident!"

He dragged the carcass out of the way.

"Sorry about that. It must have slid. I left it because I heard something in the forest, and I thought it might be the monster. If I could bring down that beast, I'd feed the whole village for weeks!"

Owen gave Claire a pointed look. She shrugged helplessly. James didn't seem to notice this exchange.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you two might be able to give me a ride into town, now that you're here."

Owen held up his mitted hand.

"Actually, we don't usually carry-"

Before he could finish, James flung the doe onto the cart. The head hung limply between Claire and Owen, tongue dripping with blood. James climbed up shortly after, sitting beside Claire.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, but Maboul went back into town, and it's a boring trip to make alone. Cold, too."

Owen sighed and flicked the reins lightly. Magnifique snorted and began to trot down the hill.

"Of course, this winter has been pretty terrible," James continued, "Where's all this snow coming from?"

Claire smiled.

"I had a dream that we lived in a glass bubble, and it snowed because a giant, yellow bird with leathery wings shook it from the sky."

James snorted.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

Claire looked away in shame, but Owen smiled and gave her a nudge.

"I think it sounds beautiful."

James rested his feet on the sleigh's overhang.

"Well, I'm not into that fairy tale stuff. I prefer to stay grounded."

"Says the man who thinks there's a monster in the woods . . ." Owen muttered spitefully.

"Hey, don't joke," James retorted coldly, "That creature ate my friend, and I'll never forgive him for it. It's not easy to lose loved ones, you know."

"I know," Owen said quietly, "But sometimes, you have to move on."

James' face hardened.

"I won't rest until that monster is brought to justice. I wouldn't be surprised if he caused the sickness, too. I lost Marie, my father . . ."

"It's been a bad year for everyone," Owen mumbled, "Half the village is sick."

"I'm well aware. Just the other day, Fleur the orphan girl caught the illness."

Claire covered her mouth.

"Oh, no!"

"It's true," James replied grimly, "And she's one of many. We'll lose half of our population by Spring, I'm sure."

Claire wrung her hands.

"James . . . if things are really as bad as you say, we could invite some of you up to the castle for a while."

He waved his hand dismissively.

"No, that won't help. We're dead no matter where we go, and I don't want either of you to be infected. Things are already bad enough, so we must take care. I can't imagine they'll get any worse on their own."

But as they rode over a rise, a burning house came into view. The village was on fire.