"I suppose you consider it necessary that I labor," I tell Delora the next morning. She and Parfait are still discussing what chores I should have. "At least that's better than accepting charity."

"Of course it's necessary, Princess," Delora replies. "You work to show you can be useful. No freeloaders at the Marchen, remember? And you're right, the princess peasant must either work, or find charity elsewhere."

"Stop teasing her, Delora," Parfait intervenes. "Lucette has had a lot thrown at her already."

"I'm only speaking the truth," Delora claims. "Besides, working to live is the commoner's way of life, but at least it's rewarding."

"And I suppose it's fair that I earn the bed, food, and clothing I have been accommodated with in some way," I say, and Delora blinks at my statement. "I suppose I could offer financial reimbursement to be paid once my curse is gone, but the choice to accept credit is always up to the merchant, not the customer who offers it."

"Err…yes," Delora says, clearly surprised that I am being so agreeable.

"Let's see…" Parfait considers. "What about cooking duties?"

"No way," Delora says. "She'd burn a salad."

"She could be a receptionist?" Parfait asks.

"Then we'd lose all of our customers," Delora replies.

"That's…probably true," Parfait admits.

"Do you have any useful skills at all?" Delora asks me.

"I told you that I can sew," I bite, "but apparently, you haven't been carried away by enough birds to make that skill worthwhile enough to earn my keep."

Delora rolls her eyes at me, but Parfait exclaims, "Aha! I have found the perfect job for our Cinderella."

"Am I cleaning the fireplace?" I ask, but Parfait casts her spell, and a broom with a bow appears.

"Lucette will be in charge of sweeping the Marchen floors," the fairy declares.

"It's better than the fireplace," I grumble.

"Perfect," Delora says with a smile. "Even she should be able to do that. Could you, Princess?"

I say nothing at first, staring at the broom. "The big end goes on the floor, right?" I finally answer.

"But look!" Parfait tries to convince me. "I even put a cute little ribbon on the broom just for you. It's your very own, special broom."

"Why must it have a bow? It's unbecoming," I say, getting an idea of how to avoid Delora pulling me around the floor with the broom.

"But it's so cute," Parfait insists.

I raise my chin, looking down at the floor over my nose. "You have given me the floor of the Marchen as my territory, and it shall bend itself to my will by being clean. Sir Broom is my only ally in this matter, against our common enemy of dirt that invades my lands." Parfait blinks, possibly wondering if I am teasing her or going mad. "A bow is not an appropriate decoration for a knight of my lands. Ribbons are only appropriate for knights when medals hang off of them, and Sir Broom is yet too inexperienced to have earned such awards."

I remove the bow, hand it to Parfait who continues to stare at me, pick a corner of the room, and start to sweep. Delora almost looks disappointed. She no longer has an excuse to put a spell on my broom. I have to keep myself from grinning. I bet she was looking forward to having fun with that. But I won this time. Ha!

The pair leave for a cup of tea, and I continue to sweep until the floor is spotless. Before I am completely finished…I still sweep slower than the frenzied rate Delora's Mr. Broom sweeps…Karma comes in.

"Princess, Parfait sent me to check…" he trails off. "How lovely! I can see my reflection on the floorboards. I'm impressed."

I narrow my eyes at him. "You are also standing in my dust pile!"

"Goodness," Karma responds, carefully moving out of the dust pile, trying not to spread it about. "I didn't know princesses could be such terrifying creatures. You are aware that the Marchen is opening soon, yes? The floor isn't going to stay clean forever."

"Then do not open the Marchen," I say, "or make them remove their shoes at the door."

"I do sympathize with you Princess," Karma tells me. "It's difficult adjusting to the commoner's life."

"Then I take it you are no commoner, either," I respond.

"Oh, did I let that slip?" he asks. "That was my mistake." His eyes gleam with mischief as he watches me finish my task.

That night, I gratefully rub some of Annice's salve she had used on my feet into my hands. The redness and pain decrease. I check my feet, which appear to be healed from that first cursed, shoeless day.

The first time this happened, I remember being somewhat desperate at around this point, deciding to swallow my pride enough to ask everyone and anyone for advice on being good, thus how to break my curse. When simple advice proves insufficient for me to actually get any good works accomplished, I eventually team up with one of the young men that eventually pay me court.

But each time, whether I reach a happy or horrifying ending, I wake again to find Delora on my shelf. At first, after a bad ending, I had thanked my lucky stars for a chance to try again. But now it is so tiring…it is as if none of my actions ever mattered. Every time it happens now, I ask myself what it will take for it to stop.

I am raw.

I am exhausted.

I close my eyes, and lean against the bedpost, wishing that the skin salve would do something for the headache I am getting from thinking about this.

Only Parfait's advice, gleaned from last time once I convinced her of my predicament, is there to guide me. I must find the balance within myself to successfully convince the Tenebrarum that I am now a suitable caretaker. I must not be wholly good or evil, my actions must bring about both pain and healing like a physician cauterizing a wound. There must be both rain and sunshine for plants to grow. Pragmatism rather than gain or loss must guide me.

And I do not know what it will take for me to live that way. I simply have grown to care too much for the people around me, but on the other hand, they are exactly what Parfait thinks will protect me from the corrupting influence of the Tenebrarum. Surely, the Tenebrarum would not wish me to be so corrupted, that it is not in balance with the Lucis.

Perhaps I must cause pain, but only pain that will give birth to growth; fear, but only fear that will inspire courage; anger, but only when it will lead to joy. But, in practical terms, how will I ever manage that?

Tears of frustration dampen my pillow tonight. But I can only move forward; my only choice is to try again. And if I fail, I will have to try again…and again, until I finally succeed.

At least my stubborn nature is good for something.

…..

I know that the next month is always uneventful. I work, and ask the other boarders about goodness, and they cast their answers in their own strengths. Jurien, for example, always tells me about bravery, Garlan speaks of loyalty, and Waltz tells me it involves making someone happy. After about a week at the inn, much earlier than I usually do, I decide that my hands are now tough enough to handle a practice blade without additional blisters.

I delay putting on my nightgown one night, and go into the common room where I can clearly hear the cracking of the practice blades and wait for someone that can take me outside. In only a few minutes, Waltz appears.

"Princess?" he asks.

"What is that I hear out there?" I ask, pointing toward the sounds.

"Don't worry, that's just the knights practicing," he tells me.

"Hmmm," I consider. "It's not nearly as noisy as when there are dozens of them practicing."

"Did you want to watch them?" Waltz asks me. "I'm going out to practice magic with Delora myself in a moment, and I can leave you with them on the way."

He remembers that I like watching the knights practice. "I would like that," I reply. "Are you taking lessons from Delora?"

Waltz nods. "Yes, I haven't been able to use magic freely for the years I was cursed. I was nearly done with what would traditionally be called my apprenticeship when I was cursed, so I basically need the…finishing touches put on my education."

I know that while Delora does not have his raw power, she has experience and has had time for finesse which Waltz could benefit from. However, he can cast high level spells like teleportation and portals that Delora and nearly all other witches are incapable of. It will not take Delora long to teach him everything she knows. Waltz is always so modest...except when he is assuring me that he can protect me. "That might be interesting to watch sometime, too," I say, as I follow him out of the inn.

Waltz smiles at me, and leads me to the glade where Karma and Garlan practice tonight. Jurien must not be coming tonight, as Karma is dressed as a man. We stand on the sidelines, watching, and I notice that Karma sees us but does not let our presence distract him. However, when Garlan does notice us, he stumbles and gives Karma enough of an opening to 'kill' him.

"You let yourself be distracted, Garlan," Karma tells him. "You need to catalogue everything, but only deal with the pertinent."

"I know," Garlan sighs, and then both swordsmen walk to where Waltz and I stand.

"So, you train the knights?" I ask Karma.

"Well, yes," Karma admits, "after Jurien and Garlan begged me to teach them."

I tilt my head as I consider this information. Karma is never modest at all. "It is not uncommon for noblemen to be taught the blade," I say, as if I could mistake Karma for anything else.

"The princess would like to watch you practice," Waltz explains.

"Actually, the princess would prefer to practice," I say, and all three men look at me as if I had just proclaimed that I wanted to fly. Well, two of them do. Waltz just looks at me as if wondering what kind of mischief I am planning to get into.

"Princess, taking up the sword is not an easy task, or one to be undertaken lightly," Karma tries to explain to me.

"I've had lessons," I explain. "Not in public, but I have. I don't pretend to be as good as a knight, but I'm no slouch either."

Karma smiles, and I assume that he means to humor me. He whispers something into Garlan's ear, and the knight nods and turns around as if to leave. "Would you permit a quick test of your skills, Princess?" Karma asks me.

I am aware that Waltz has moved farther away from me, and I hear something land behind me with a soft thud. A practice sword on the grass. He intends to use only his hands to grab me. "Fine," I say, and then fall backwards as Garlan grasps at the air where I was just standing. I push him off balance with my legs, and as he falls, I roll toward where the thud was and come up with Garlan's practice sword in my hands. Before Garlan can finish rising, I have the 'blade' of the practice sword against his neck.

"Does this mean I can practice?" I ask. I notice that Waltz is grinning at me now, and Delora has appeared from somewhere and is now standing beside him watching with interest.

"…Yes," says Karma, quite clearly surprised.

I look down at Garlan, whom I am still holding down with my blade. "You really shouldn't underestimate your opponents, you know," I tell him. "I'm not exactly a delicate flower of a princess. That would be Emelaigne."

Garlan laughs as I remove the blade and he rises. "So, let's see how much you know, Princess."

Karma and Garlan spend the next hour putting me through my paces, seeing what I do and don't know. Unfortunately, I start to tire as my muscles turn to water. When I am finally forced to ask for a stop to rest, I throw myself on the ground and gratefully accept a large mug of water that Waltz has brought me. My hair feels plastered to my face with sweat.

"You are competent with a blade, Princess," Karma notes, looking somewhat impressed in spite of himself. "Your endurance needs work."

"Who taught you?" Garlan asks. He is always curious about this, every time I start practice anew.

"Does it matter?" I ask, after gulping down about half of the mug. "It's no one that remembers teaching me, now." They usually assume Fritz taught me. After all, he is the only knight I appear to have prolonged contact with while living in the palace. Or at least, the knights assume that. I'm not sure what Delora thinks, as Parfait has probably told her that I know my personal knight was cursed, so he would not fit the qualification of 'not remembering teaching me.' "It's not princess-like to be trained with a blade. In theory, whomever taught me may have asked me not to reveal who they were to avoid getting anyone into trouble. Were this the case, telling you would amount to breaking my word."

Garlan nods, understandingly. "It was just a matter of curiosity. I was especially surprised that you didn't panic when I attacked you that first time."

"I heard you behind me," I say, still trying to finish catching my breath. "Besides, panic means disorientation; disorientation means death. And you really shouldn't drop things before you attack people. It lets them know where you are, and you shouldn't leave weapons where an opponent could reach."

Delora laughs from behind me. "I tell you to perform three good deeds, and you start critiquing Garlan's methods of attack."

"Am I wrong?" I ask her, turning around. "If the knights are training, they are trying to build their skills. Would assisting them in doing so not be considered good?"

"Well, it is not a bad thing," Delora admits, "but perhaps not good enough to earn another good work. Even though you do appear competent, they would likely be training you more than you training them."

"I don't see a problem with that," I tell her. "Teaching someone else can be the best kind of education for oneself. Unless, of course, the knights do not wish me to train with them," I say, my eyes trailing back to Karma and Garlan.

The two swordsmen look at each other, then nod. "I have no objection," Karma says.

"Nor do I," Garlan replies, and then grins. "Jurien is going to be so upset she missed seeing this. Our little spitfire of a princess, fighting. You seem as determined as she was, when she was training."

I shrug. "It's the sort of skill that could come in handy, especially if no one knows you have it. And I'll probably need some training from Jurien, since women fight a little differently due to having more muscle in our hips than our arms."

Delora narrows her eyes at me. "Wait…when were you not in your room long enough to train within the six months? I don't ever remember you coming back to your room sweaty."

"Who said I had my lessons within that time, while you were watching from my shelf? Or if I had that I had not wiped the sweat from my brow and changed clothing before returning?" I ask, springtime and innocence. "It's not like I tell you dolls everything. I can be sneaky when I want to be."

Waltz starts chuckling from the sidelines. I wonder what he remembers, but I don't.

"Sneaky?" Delora asks me.

"You know, it's odd," I tell her, as if remembering something. "I remember not getting caught by my mother in misdeeds much more often than getting caught." Waltz is no longer laughing. "But I remember being watched often, so I don't think she was neglectful."

I shrug as if it is of no consequence, as if I don't notice the sudden awkwardness that has descended. "Well, I'm ready to go a little longer if either of you are," I tell the swordsmen.

Karma gives me a smile, and hands me the practice blade as I return the now empty mug to Waltz.

That night, I return to my room exhausted. I barely have the energy to pour water into my washbasin, but when I put my hand on the dresser where it lies, my hand senses something slender. I pick the object up to find a knife shorter than my forearm that fades into the background of whatever it lies upon. The straps on the sheath are adjustable, and I could easily conceal this weapon on my leg or arm for use.

It seems that Parfait has made good on her promise to provide me with a dagger, and has even given me one that is practically impossible to detect. I know that we both hope I will never have need of it, and I have given her my promise to never use it on anyone from the Marchen. But, it is better to be safe than sorry.

I adjust the straps so they will fit around my thigh, and make a note to myself to make a hole in my dress pocket so I can withdraw it from there if need be.