CHAPTER II: Prince Charming

Sarah walked out of the council room feeling refreshed, despite the matters that had been discussed. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she had made a good impression upon herself and her kingdom. For many days she had been preparing speeches for this meeting, and, to her surprise, it had proven to be nothing like she had expected. Everything had been close-knit and friendly, and matters had been quickly taken care of. It was overwhelmingly unlike politics in her world.

Sarah walked down the familiar hallways, and despite its simplicity of design, her blue gown looked very resplendent as it shimmered beneath the glow of the candles in the sconces along the walls. It did not take her long to reach the throne room, where her guests awaited her arrival. Sage was amongst them, and she gave him a lopsided grin. He smiled back, but made no attempt to approach her.

"My servants have seen to bringing your luggage to your respective rooms and you may now retire to them until dinner is served. Feel free to wander around... My home is yours to share. If you get bored, I am sure Sage will be happy to entertain you with some feature of my castle, or maybe even a little humorous game of cat-and- mouse with the queen." Each member of the royal assembly laughed at the teasing of her elfin Royal Advisor.

"That's okay, Your Majesty, we will give him his fair share this week," Benedick said as he whopped Sage on the back. Sage was dramatically shorter than the cat, but his position at the top of the steps to the throne allowed him to put his arm about the feline's shoulders. "Benedick, my feline friend, if you are out for mind- games, you are going to have a more than fair competition... That is, if you're not competing with me."

Benedick laughed heartily. "Very well, elf Sage, you have a duel."

"I suppose that this is a duel to the ...irony," Delina mused warmly.

"Yes, that is what we will call it," Sage said, whacking Benedick across that back in a mocking manner. "And I do believe Benedick has met his match." Benedick regained his balance and began the journey to his chambers. "I would watch my back, if I were you, Sage."

"No, my dear friend, I will watch your back, instead."

The room broke out into uproarious laughter. The laughter continued for some time, and Benedick finally discontinued his travels and turned around. "What's so funny?" he demanded.

Sarah tried to suppress her laughter, and finally managed, "Um, Benedick, perhaps you should watch your back, as well."

It did not take the cat long to find the source of their mirth; upon his back Sage had placed a sign reading "Please kick me into the Bog of Eternal Stench." He removed it dramatically, wadded it up, and threw it so that it hit Sage in the chest. "Ha, ha," he said as he continued his ascension of the stairs. "Two can play at that game."

Sage walked down the stairs, and Sarah saw the hidden meaning in Benedick's words. She laughed all the harder, and soon everyone was joining her.

"I think I know what is going on," Sage said, chuckling. He reached around and pulled off a sign that said, "Please kick me into an oubliette."

"Perhaps Benedick and I are too well matched," Sage said as he threw the paper at Benedick's retreating figure. "I guess I will have to revise my strategy."

Finally everyone began to part and make the trips to their rooms. Sarah said her good-byes and relaxed in her throne once everyone was gone. Only Sage remained and he approached her, beaming. "Well, how did it go?"

"It was fantastic, Sage. I really think I made an impression."

"It would seem that way." He patted her on the knee. "They are all enjoying themselves. Tomorrow, they will enjoy themselves more, I should think. I just hope that pressing matters do not weigh too heavily on the celebration."

"It will be a difficult balance," Sarah agreed. "During half of their stay, we will have to brainstorm the cause of this disturbance."

"Yes, Eberon has spoken to me of it. You know, Sarah, it is strange to me."

"What?"

Sage seated himself in the chair at the side of her throne. "Eberon has been much kinder to me since you and I became such close friends. His overweening kindness causes me much discomfort..."

Sarah sat upright in her throne. Its silver and green padding expanded with the loss of her weight. "I don't understand why his behavior would cause you discomfort. You two seemed to be such good friends."

"Eberon and I have a past, Sarah. Perhaps, someday, I will tell you the story."

"Why not now? I am listening."

The candlelight in the room shone green through the emerald candlabras, causing Sage's pallid complexion to take on an otherworldly radiance. "Not now, because there is no need for sadness. Some serious matters should wait, for we have enough of them to handle." Sage took Sarah's hands and smiled. "You have a very big day tomorrow, and everyone must enjoy it. Birds and fighting beasts and sad stories can wait. Tomorrow is a day of reflection of the past and enjoyment of the present."

"And surprises..."

"Yes, everyone will really enjoy your surprise."

Sarah gave him a sidelong glance. "I'm not talking about that surprise, Sage. What are you up to?"

"That, as all other matters we have discussed, must wait until tomorrow."

"That would be the nature of a surprise, wouldn't it?"

"Of course, milady." He winked at her and headed up the stairs. "Get some rest before dinner..."

"You know very well I won't!" she exclaimed while he walked away. He merely acknowledged her with a wave of his hand.

Sarah rose from the throne, and walked languidly across the stone tiles. She soaked in her environment, as if seeing it for the first time in a century, and wondered at how she had become the queen of such a fine kingdom. Only in her fantasies had she ever possessed such richness in lifestyle, and now her fantasy was reality, while her former reality was as if a passing dream. Long ago Jareth had offered his crystals to her, crystals that would bring her hopes and dreams... Dreams that would be shadowed by the debt of a slave, always needing to praise and pet her master's ego in order to receive more truthless fantasy. Sarah had not fallen into that trap, and had been blessed for her meager wisdom. Now she lived in her own perfect home, and ruled in a land where magic was the ever- present sun through her windows. She sighed deeply, sliding the tips of her fingers along the cool, stone walls.

As she passed through the courtyard, the evening sky washed her face in pale reds and purples. The moon was barely visible through the translucent colors of the canopy, its oval shape revealing its journey to full maturity. A fountain gurgled beside her and the golden glow of candles showed from various open windows, lighting up balconies that held flowers and chairs. Sarah smiled when she saw Isabelle leaning on the banister of her own balcony, her hair teased by the cool breezes, and her eyes distant in thought.

Sarah went up the stairs and knocked on Isabelle's door. After a few moments the young woman pulled it ajar, a grin teasing her fair face upon the sight of Sarah. She invited her in, then walked to the dresser, where she began grooming for that night's meal.

"How are you doing, today?" Sarah asked as she seated herself in a chair by the hearth.

Isabelle brushed out her long, brown hair before the mirror. "I feel better."

"Are you sure? You don't have to pretend for me."

"Well, I didn't say I was in the best possible spirits, but I am not nearly as depressed as yesterday."

Sarah watched Isabelle in silence a few moments. Everything about Isabelle gave Sarah a vague nostalgic feeling, a longing for days as a child. This feeling was ironic, because Isabelle was a young woman, no traces of childhood in her face. It is amazing how much we look alike, Sarah thought, for the hundredth time. Surely there was a logical explanation for their uncanny similarity, but Sarah was not aware of any. No, she did not turn out to be as much like her as her twin Leah, but Sarah could place photos of each of them from when they were fifteen side-by-side, and not tell the difference. It felt strange having multiple copies of herself walking through the castle, so to speak.

Sarah gripped the arms of the chair and inhaled the flowery aromas of Isabelle's room. "So, are you ready for tomorrow?"

Isabelle's face lit up immediately; she spun on her heel, and her skirt twirled about her ankles. "Oh, yes!! Tell me what you have planned, Sarah!"

Sarah sat up in the wooden chair and gazed at Isabelle with pondering eyes. Lifting her finger to her chin, she said, "Well, that was an abrupt change."

"Yes, I know, I'm fickle. But I do so much like festivals!!" Her eyes sparkled suddenly, and her brush lay forgotten on her dresser as she sat on her bed.

"Well, I have already told you what I have planned, Isabelle. What can I tell you, without telling about my surprises?" A smirk played on Sarah's lips.

"You could tell me about them... You know I would keep them to myself." When Sarah shook her head, Isabelle grabbed her hands and cried, "Oh, please!! I can't take it anymore!"

With a playful gesture, Sarah pushed Isabelle away and laughed. "Well, I would almost think you were going to die by the way you are acting!"

"Yes, I most definitely will!" Isabelle chuckled, her aristocratic accent tinkling elegantly as she did so. "I love surprises! Yet, good gracious, how I hate them!"

Sarah rose and examined herself in the mirror as she spoke. "I hate them, too... Sage is playing a little game with me. I couldn't possibly figure out what he is conjuring."

"Sage?" Isabelle laughed. "He is always about something mischievous. Maybe he is playing the matchmaker."

Sarah grinned as she spruced up her hair. "That would be something... As if Sage could possibly find a man to suit my needs."

"Oh, your needs, are they? So, you have devised a long list of perfections for this person, have you?" She rolled over on her bed and gazed up at the ceiling. "I think there must not be a man out there for you, considering how persnickety you are about the sex."

"Yes, I do have a long list that I revise from time-to-time..."

"And, what does this list entail?"

Sarah laughed as if she had heard the funniest thing in her life. "Do you really want to know?"

"Why not?"

With a dramatic clearing of her throat, Sarah began her inventory. "Well, he must, for one, be exceedingly charming, mysterious, but also open with his emotions. His heart must be well-placed, and he must be concerned over the same type things as I am. Of course, he will be handsome, and he will be engrossed with his own interests while being interested in mine. He must love me with all of his heart, and, finally, he must never leave me." She emphasized the last statement with a sober glance at her side.

"Is that all? I thought it would be worse than that... " Isabelle sat up on her bed and gesticulated wildly as she spoke, just as she had learned from being around Sarah. "You will not make him scrub your pans," she scrubbed her pillow, "sweep your floor, or kiss your feet? I am amazed at your lack of practicality."

"Oh, and you talk! You are loved by every boy and man here, so you may demand such things. I have to be practical, or I will end up being an old maid. You might very well learn from my practicality, the way you lock yourself away from the poor boys who write poetry at one accidental glance from you."

Isabelle seemed slightly disgusted with the topic and immediately said, "Enough about that... Show me what you will do when prince charming arrives!"

Hand swooping toward her head, Sarah replied in a weary tone, "Oh, must I? I have acted enough for one evening."

"Well, if Sage is preparing such a surprise, you must be prepared."

"Your logic astounds me, but I am really not up to it. I don't expect that prince charming will show his glistening eyes tomorrow."

Isabelle was adamant. "Oh, be a sport!"

Sarah sighed teasingly and rose from her chair. "Oh, all right. But you must leave me alone about my surprise, until I reveal it. Deal?"

"Yes, I will, I promise. Now, Prince Charming asks you to dance. What will you say?"

With an elegant gesture, Sarah rose her hand to her imaginary suitor. "Well, I would be most honored..." Sarah turned to look at Isabelle. "Is he a 'Your Highness' or 'Sire' or 'Your Knightship' do you think?"

Rolling her eyes about as if Sarah had just interrupted Hamlet's soliloquy to talk about shoes, Isabelle replied, "Oh, 'Your Highness,' if you must. Continue!"



"Your Highness is very charming," she said as she danced about the room. She pretended to blush and laughed at an imaginary comment. "Oh, you are so witty! You must talk to my court jester, Sage, sometime!!"

Isabelle rolled about her bed in frivolous laughter at the remark about Sarah's Royal Advisor, Sage. He probably would not let Sarah forget it for months, if he heard about it.

"So, Your Highness," Sarah continued, "please tell me about yourself." An ear to the air, Sarah nodded her head emphatically at silence. "Oh, yes, I do so much love silly little girls.... I know one; her name is Isabelle."

Isabelle bolted upright and gripped the edge of the bedspread, her face full of mock injury. "Sarah!"

"Yes, she is such a pretty thing, and has every boy wrapped about her finger... Maybe, if she was queen, she might make all the boys take classes on etiquette and mind their mothers."

"You devil!" Isabelle jumped up from the bed, laughing madly, and grabbed Sarah's outstretched hands. Confusion gripped Sarah's face as she exclaimed, "Why, Your Highness, what has happened to you? You look

exactly like Isabelle!! Oh, my charming prince, thou hast deserted me!!!" The tragic conclusion to Sarah's brief play having been made, she eluded Isabelle's grasp and mocked a swoon to the bed. "Oh, I shall not be able to live..."

"You are absolutely a devil!" Still convulsing with laughter, Isabelle sat next to Sarah and shoved her.

"No, I am absolutely tired.... I think I shall retire to my chambers before insanity completes its grip about me... Oh, swoon, someday my prince shall come!!"