The image of Edel, Uzura, and Beryl waving to her as she walked away stayed in her mind long after she lost sight of the house. It was comforting to know she now had a safe place with people she could count on, instead of only having her pond to go back to. That comfort emboldened her, and soon her steps were lighter. She continued to hold a conversation with herself, half to practice what she'd say and half to drive away the silence of the forest.

She was on a mission, a quest. She was a hero, off to save a prince! If Edel thought she could do it, then of course she could. She began to hum a little tune as she walked, to fill the silence that permeated the air around her.

How far had Edel said to the town gates? A half a mile? Duck didn't worry about it much; she knew as long as she stayed on the path she would eventually end up in town. She would have plenty of time to find out where the prince was.

Probably.

After about a half hour of walking (her legs were longer than a ducklett's, but still quite short) she arrived at the gates—a large, dark pair of wooden doors that were almost as tall as the walls they were nestled in. Duck had to crane her neck to see the top of it through the trees. Embossed on the door was a depiction of a large, simple crown, and the word KINKAN underneath. (At seeing this, Duck wondered vaguely how she could read—more magic?) Both doors sported thick iron rings bigger than her head. Another, much smaller, single door was stuck in the wall a few feet from the gates, which opened upon her arrival. A man stuck his head out from inside and looked at her amicably from his broad face.

"Well, hello there, kid," he said. "And who might you be?"

Duck raised a hand in hopeful greeting. "Uh, I'm just a…a traveller. I'm looking for someone in town." Her hand gestured to the gates.

"Oh? You're not a new student at the Academy?" He looked surprised.

Duck shook her head, not wanting to let slip that she had no idea what that was. "Nope," she said.

The man had stepped out completely, now, and Duck could see a pokéball on his belt. "Oh, you have a pokémon?" She couldn't help but fidget excitedly—who'd have guessed a few days ago that she'd be meeting so many new people and pokémon? "Could I meet them?"

The man's eyebrows raised a little, but he consented and unclipped the pokéball from his belt, releasing it.

Duck sucked in a gasp as the tough-skinned rhyhorn towered above her, looking remarkably like its trainer. Or maybe it was the other way around? She waved, not noticing the look of confusion on its face. "Hello there! I'm Duck," she said. Neither rhyhorn nor trainer knew quite what to do.

"Well, can I go into town, then? It was great to meet the both of you," she said, and the man nodded, after a moment.

He motioned to his rhyhorn, and the two of them took ahold of the great iron rings and pulled. After some grunting, the gates were open enough for Duck to walk through comfortably. She turned around once she was into the town and waved again. "Thank you!"

The guard waved back. "No problem. Good luck with whoever you're looking for, kid," he called as she walked away. The rhyhorn gave a shy little wave.

Duck sucked in a long breath of air as she walked, trying to get a smell of the town. Her sense of smell hadn't been anything to brag about as a ducklett, but it had grown considerably after her transformation—the only problem was, she couldn't really place most of them. She decided to collectively name this particular group of smells "town smell", for her own future reference. The air was cool but not chilly, and she enjoyed the way the wind made her bangs tickle her face.

The houses and buildings here were all fairly close together, with narrow dumpster-lined alleyways disappearing in between them. Laundry-laden clotheslines hung between windows overhead, as many of the buildings had two or even three floors. The roofs were shingled in a mix of warm brown and gray blue tile that reflected the morning sun nicely.

After a minute or so of walking she was no longer alone in the cobbled streets. A dozen people passed her, each walking about their own ways, old and young, girls and boys and anyone else, alone or in pairs, each certain of their destination. She caught bits of their chatter as they passed her. A few pokémon were out as well, walking with their trainers or alone. No one paid much attention to her, so she readjusted her grip on the satchel straps and kept walking, suddenly shy.

A weight bobbed in her stomach—what if nobody knew who the prince was? Or worse, what if they did know, but no one wanted to talk to her? She couldn't bear the thought of turning back before even meeting him.

Just as her anxiety was reaching a record high, it started to drizzle. And, before she could even register it, the drizzle evolved into a downpour. Shouting in distress, people and pokémon scattered, some headed into shops and under awnings, and others braving the rain and running off into the distance. Duck found herself being herded along with some of the crowd into a small restaurant, standing with the other soaked passersby.

A woman came out a few moments later, her arms laden with towels that she handed out to the impromptu guests. Duck thanked her quietly, then started to pat herself dry. Even though she had only been in the rain for a minute or so, her hair was thoroughly wet. She walked over to a potted plant and wrung out her braid over it, so as not to get water on the tile floor (at least, not any more water). The woman, who had disappeared into the rear of the restaurant after giving out the towels, returned with a large stack of cups and an even larger teapot.

Murmured thanks filled the air as the same woman passed out cups and filled each generously with a honey colored tea. Duck had since discovered her rear to be decently dry, and had sat down at a little table in an alcove by the door. She took a sip of her tea, humming in delight at the pleasant taste.

Someone spoke to the woman, cutting over the sound of the rain and clinking of silverware. "Mrs. Ebine, you are as generous as ever. How can I—we—repay you?"

The woman, Ebine, shook her head and smiled warmly. "Oh, no need. Just stop by later of your own volition, instead of because of ill weather." The crowd collectively returned the smile, and returned to their tea and towels. Duck heard a few of them order full meals.

Nobody else noticed the bells on the door chime quietly, and Duck watched as a plump psyduck waddled inside, stopping close to her table. He too (Duck was fairly certain it was a male—pokémon genders were a lot easier to guess than human ones) was dripping wet, and he shook his head energetically, speckling chair and table legs with water to match the floor. He wore a green cloth tied around his neck, which he tugged off and wrung out onto the floor. Duck frowned.

"Hey!" she hissed, leaning down. "That's not very nice of you!"

The psyduck turned its head to look at her with one of his odd googly eyes. He stared at her silently for a moment, and then promptly returned to wringing out his neckerchief.

Duck's eyebrows furrowed, and she thought for a second. She knew psyducks were supposed to be odd, but she hadn't expected rude. She was about to say something rude back, but she paused as she noticed the psyduck having a particularly hard time drying his back and tail. She sighed.

"Hey," she said again, nicer this time.

The psyduck turned to her again, face inscrutable.

She held out her towel, which was only slightly damp from her use. "You want this?"

He stared at her for a long moment, then took the towel. Before she could pull her hand back to herself he handed her the wet neckerchief, which made a slapping noise in her palm. She raised it over the nearby potted plant and squeezed it out like she had her hair.

When she turned back to the table, she saw the psyduck had clambered up onto the chair opposite her (which was an impressive feat, given his height), wrapped himself in the towel, and had begun staring at her teacup.

Duck hesitated, then turned and put up her hand. "Uh, Mrs. Ebine?"

Ebine arrived quickly, teapot in hand. "Yes, dear? How can I help you two?"

"Um. Can we get another tea, please?" Duck thought gratefully of the small sum of money Edel had given her.

"Certainly," Ebine said brightly. "What kind?"

Duck paused, realizing she had no idea what was on the menu. "Uh… whatever kind pokémon can drink?"

"Of course," said Ebine, who turned to face the kitchen and called out, "Coriander!" A green tufted head appeared from behind the counter. "Would you bring us a pot of lum berry tea, please?" The head disappeared.

A moment later, a wide-eyed pansage stood next to Ebine, a teapot in its arms and a teacup balanced on its head. Within moments the cup was filled and in front of the psyduck, who nodded in what Duck assumed was thanks.

"Thank you," she said, pulling out the little coin purse Edel had given her. "How much is that?"

Ebine shook her head. "First time customers get a free pot. Don't worry about it dear." She placed the teapot on the table. "What's your name?"

"I'm Duck," she replied. "And this is… uh…" she trailed off awkwardly.

The psyduck drank his tea and paid her no mind.

"This is Coriander," Ebine said, breaking the awkward silence. "And you already know my name. It's nice to meet you, Duck." She turned to the psyduck. "You too, fella, although you've been in here a few times before. You're lucky to have found such a nice friend, you know." She winked at Duck. "Enjoy your meal, you two." Coriander said the same, but Duck didn't have an opportunity to thank him as well before they were already gone.

Duck turned back to her new companion. "So, what's your name?" she asked, more because she wanted to break the silence than curiosity.

He just looked at her, and Duck realized it didn't matter that she could talk to pokémon if none of them would talk back. She sighed and put her chin in her hands.

"I don't know if you'd believe me, but I really can understand pokémon."

Silence.

"Fine, you don't have to talk if you don't want to."

He didn't.

"I guess I'll talk about myself, then. I'm new in town, as you probably guessed, and I'm looking for a specific person." A thought occurred to her. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to know a prince, would you?"

No response.

She sighed again, and began fiddling with her teacup. 'I really need to find him, but nobody I've asked so far even knows who he is. How am I supposed to save someone I can't even find?"

She covered her face with her hands as if to push the rising anxiety back down.

"Save?"

She raised her head quickly, unsure if she had imagined the low, scratchy voice. The psyduck stared at her, his expression physically unchanged, and yet…

"Y-yeah…," she replied slowly. "I was told I'm the only one who can save him. And I want to do it, too! The only trouble is, I don't even know how to start." Her shoulders slumped as she said aloud what she'd been feeling all day.

The psyduck nodded, and the two of them fell back into silence.

Duck was refilling her teacup with the lum berry tea when it spoke again.

"Fritz."

She looked up—he was staring into his cup now. "Fritz? Is—is that your name?"

He nodded.

"Oh. Well. Thank you for telling me," she said awkwardly. She took a sip, then paused as a thought crossed her mind. "You really don't know a prince, do you?" she asked again, now that she had him talking (sort of).

He shook his head.

She sighed. "Of course not. Thanks anyways, Fritz."

By now the rain had been reduced to a fine drizzle, and they had finished off the tea. Duck stood and quickly glanced over herself to make sure everything was in place and dry enough (she had put the coin purse back in its pocket of the satchel already).

"You know," she said, pushing in her chair, "You're welcome to walk with me. I could use some company."

Fritz nodded and slid out of his chair.

The two of them walked together through the town, and after Duck had explained her story to him, she found herself asking about his past. Fritz himself told it in as few words as possible, leaving Duck to infer the rest. He was hatched here, and had lived in the town his whole life. An elderly breeder raised him in her retirement, since she had no family. She had died recently, leaving Fritz on the street and without anyone to take care of him. He had been practically begging for food when Duck met him.

Duck was silent for a moment, watching her shoes tap at the cobblestones with each step. "Is that her neckerchief?" she asked finally, her head still down.

She saw his nod from the corner of her eye. "I'm sure she'd be happy to see you wear it," she said.

They were both silent again.

"You know," she started, looking up at the cloudy sky, "I don't really have anyone either. I mean, I have Edel and Uzura and Beryl, and I'm grateful for them, but I was on my own in the pond for as long as I can remember. I didn't know my parents—or even how I hatched. I didn't have a name a week ago."

She found she had stopped walking completely, and Fritz turned to look back at her. "Would you… would you come with me? I can't guarantee anything, but having a friend with you is better than being on your own, I think." She offered a weak smile.

Fritz stared at her inscrutably for a long moment, and Duck got the feeling this would not be the last time that happened. He finally nodded, and Duck reached down to take his tiny hand in hers.

Soon the two realized Fritz's knowledge of the town only went so far, and Duck's knack for misinterpreting directions did not make it any easier. Worse than that, Duck thought, they didn't even have a concrete destination and they were still lost.

They decided to quite while behind and ask for directions, looking around for a convenient passerby.

Lucky for them, two appeared—a pair of girls in matching dresses turned the corner onto the street ahead of them and came into view, headed their way. Duck's face brightened, then froze—these were the first girls her age she'd seen, ever! What if she screwed up something as simple as asking directions? What if they thought she was stupid, or worse, didn't like her? What if they were mean—?!

Fritz tugged on the hem of her romper, pulling her back to earth before she tried to run in panic. They exchanged glances, and Duck exhaled slowly. Whether these girls liked her or not, she needed to find the prince.

By now the girls were near enough to get their attention, so she steeled herself before hastily stepping into their path.

"H-hello!" she said, as confidently as she could.

The girls stopped, and Duck took this as a sign to continue. "Sorry to bother you guys, but we're lost. Would you happen to have a map, or anything? We're trying to find a prince." It occurred to her that she didn't really have anywhere to be, but it would at least help to know where they were or had been already.

Duck was surprised when recognition flitted across their faces at the word "prince." The blonde one turned to her companion and whispered loudly, "Oh, could it be?!"

Her friend nodded in excitement, her pink bun bobbing on her head. She cupped a hand (Duck wasn't sure why—she could hear them both just fine) and replied, "She's definitely going after him! Even more competition!"

Confused, Duck watched the two of them grow more animated.

"Of course he's attracting girls outside of the school—I can't believe this didn't happen earlier!"

"Oh, I wonder how Rue will take it? Surely she won't be intimidated by her!" The two girls clasped hands as they gasped and tittered, hardly even looking at Duck now.

Duck wasn't sure what they were talking about now, but she knew what she'd heard before.

"Wait," she interrupted, incredulous. "You guys know who I'm talking about?"

The blonde one sighed, exasperated. "Of course we do, silly! He's only the most charming boy in the Academy!"

"Yeah!" her companion said. "Everyone loves him—girls, guys, even pokémon have crushes on him." She nudged her friend knowingly in the ribs with an elbow. "Personally, I'm all for the bad boy type."

Duck felt herself becoming lost in more than one sense, so she tried to get the conversation back on track. "Can you take me to him? Where is he?"

"Sure," The girl with the bun said. "There's nothing in school rules about not having visitors."

Duck sighed, relieved. "Oh, thank goodness," she said. "I wasn't sure I was going to find him at all... My name's Duck, and this is Fritz," she added, bowing slightly and gesturing to her new friend. Fritz nodded silently.

The two girls curtsied in return and introduced themselves. The one with the curly blonde pigtails and green bows in her hair was Lilie, and the one with pink hair in a bun was Pique. The two looked similar in their matching gray-white-and-blue dresses (which Duck assumed was a uniform of some sort), although the blonde was a little thicker than her friend, who was darker and more muscular. Both were taller than her, although they couldn't be much older.

Pique took Duck's hand confidently. "C'mon," she said, smiling. "The Academy is this way. Who knows—maybe you'll enroll, too!"

"E-enroll?" Duck asked, blushing at the ease with which Pique performed the intimate gesture.

Lillie picked up Fritz (much to his dismay) and took Duck's other hand. "Yeah," she replied. "You should definitely enroll! I'm sure your parents would give you permission—and when they don't I can console you!"

Duck inspected her shoes quietly for a moment. "That won't be a problem," she said, looking up at them. "I'm an orphan."

Pique grew somber, although Lilie got an odd look in her eyes.

"Oh. I'm sorry," Pique said, and squeezed her hand apologetically. "I'm sure you miss them, huh?"

"A-actually," Duck started, "I didn't know them at all, so—!" Before she could finish, Lilie had looped an arm tightly around her shoulders (thankfully she hadn't dropped Fritz).

"Oh, poor Duck!" she cried, "Such a tragedy! A starving orphan living in ruin, whose only dream is to confess to a prince that she has absolutely no chance with! Oh, I can see the movie adaptation now—such a tearjerker!"

"H-huh?" Duck struggled to be released from the one-armed hug to no avail. "C-confess..?"

Pique cocked a fist and knocked Lilie squarely on the head, and she relinquished Duck's neck. Pique gave her an inquisitive look while she coughed.

"You mean you don't want to confess to him?"

Duck thought for a moment, rubbing her neck. Could she tell them about saving him? Something deep down told her that these two wouldn't really understand, and something even deeper said it was better for her to keep everything a secret, if possible. She wasn't sure why it hadn't spoken while she was blabbing her history to Fritz (probably because he wasn't likely to tell anyone else). Maybe she could tell them later, once she knew she could trust them.

"O-oh, yeah, of course I do," she lied, praying that her nervousness would be read differently. "I just was surprised, I thought that I hid it better than that, haha…" she ended weakly, searching their faces for any hint that they suspected she was lying.

Lilie sighed. "Poor Duck, you can't even keep your feelings a secret, can you?"

Pique grinned ruefully. "Yeah, we kinda guessed."

"W-well, I'm kinda glad someone knows about it." Duck let out a relieved breath. Fritz gave her an odd look (or rather, an odder one), and Duck decided to explain it to him later.

Pique tugged on her hand as they began to walk again. "Well, don't worry. We'll cheer you on."

"And I'll be here to console you when you're rejected," Lilie said brightly.

"Uh…okay?"

The Academy was a large building—taller than the town walls—separated from the rest of the town by the river on one side and a fence on the other. The stone walls burned a pale silver-gray in the fog that settled over the school grounds, the roofs a pretty lavender blue. The lawns were neat and well managed, lined with bushes nearly as tall as she was. A sturdy stone bridge reached across the joyful blue water. The main entrance (which held what Pique said was the enrollment office) was a smaller building made impressive by the tall clock tower perched atop it.

The four approached the main entrance, stopping outside briefly. Lilie released her hold on Fritz, and he promptly moved to Duck's far side to stay out of her clutches. Both Pique and Lilie placed a supportive hand on her shoulders, walking with her inside the large double doors.

The inside of the main entrance was all blue-gray marble floors and white walls, with paintings and tapestries galore. Their shoes clacked against the tile as they followed the myriad signs to a door with a bronze plaque that read ENROLLMENT OFFICE.

"Well, this is it," Pique whispered, hand still on Duck's shoulder. "Good luck!"

"Yeah," Lilie whispered, a little more harshly. Her hand was still resting on Duck too. "Give it your best, even though it'll probably fail!"

"W-wha—?"

Before she could finish the word, the two girls whipped open the door and shoved her inside. "Good luck in there!" "You can do it, Duck!" they cheered simultaneously.

"Whoaa!" she said as she tried to keep her balance. The door snapped shut behind her, cracking her on the behind and knocking her down. When she stood again, she saw that Fritz had scurried in behind her, barely escaping the door himself.

"Well," she said, dusting off her knees. "That was… interesting…"

Duck took a look around. The room was small and empty, aside from them, with a single wood desk and a pair of cushy chairs in the center of it. Purple wallpaper was peppered with a few calm paintings, and an enormous stack of papers and what Duck assumed was a computer sat atop the desk—the first advanced technology she'd seen since Edel's house, aside from her new pokéballs. Another door on the wall to her left read STAFF ONLY, and a telephone hung on the wall beside it.

Unsure what to do, Duck sat in one of the chairs. Fritz scrambled into the other, then reached one stubby arm and pointed. Duck looked—there was a little red button on the edge of the desk, with a little sign that said PUSH FOR SERVICE.

Obediently, Duck pushed it. A pause, and then she could hear through the walls a chime sounding in another room, then a bump and a crash, and finally the side door opened to reveal a rather frazzled looking young woman. She hurried into the chair behind the desk, spouting rushed apologies as she rearranged seemingly every paper before her. Once everything was to her liking, she laid her hands atop the piles and looked up at Duck expectantly.

"How can I help you?" she asked. Duck caught a glimpse of her nametag, which read BERTA.

"I-I want to enroll," Duck replied meekly.

Berta smiled, though not all of it reached her eyes. "Then you've come to the right place, dear." She began sifting through her papers again.

After a moment, Berta found what she was looking for. She grabbed a pen and clicked it decisively. "All right, let's get started on the paperwork. Name?"

"Um. Duck," she answered nervously, fidgeting with her fingers.

If Berta thought it odd, she said nothing as she scribbled something on the paper. "And what's your last name?"

"I—I don't have one?"

"You don't? Uh, all right... What's your current address, then?"

"I…I don't have one of those, either…" Duck felt her stomach drop. What was she thinking, trying to enroll? There was no way this was going to work.

Berta put down her pen, looking closely at Duck for the first time. "Oh," she said delicately, after a heavy pause.

"Oh, I see. Oh dear," she muttered, and began rifling through her piles again. "Let me get the right form then, and we can start this from the beginning, eh?" She forced a smile again, although this time Duck could tell she meant no malice.

A new paper was pulled out, and Berta began her questions again as Duck tried her best to answer honestly.

"Name?"

"Duck."

"Age?"

"Uh…fourteen?" Duck guessed. She didn't know her human age—Pique and Lilie had told her they were fourteen, and she couldn't be much younger than them, physically. As a ducklett, she had been about two years old, and she'd only been a human for about four days. Berta raised an eyebrow at her tone, but didn't say anything.

"Last place of residence?"

"Uh," Duck stalled, trying to think of a way to say "the pond outside town" without sounding homeless. "Um, I last stayed with Edel at her house, outside of town—"

"You know Professor Edel?" Berta interrupted incredulously. "And you stayed at her house?" Her shoulders slouched in disbelief.

"Uh, yeah," Duck said. "She's really nice—she gave me this outfit and bag and told me where to go and everything."

"Gee whiz," Berta muttered, all professional pretense gone. "You have some connections, kid. Edel is one of the most reclusive scientists in the region."

Duck blinked. Was it odd that she had made friends with Edel? She had no idea. Given how kind and sympathetic Edel was, she was surprised everyone wasn't her close friend.

After a second Berta cleared her throat. "Okay, back to work," she said. "Any previous schooling?"

Duck made a face. She was lucky she knew as much as she did, which wasn't much at all.

"I'll take that as a 'minimal'," Berta said. "I assume this is your pokémon?" She politely gestured to Fritz with her pen.

Duck and Fritz exchanged glances, Duck asking silently for permission and Fritz giving it. She turned to Berta and nodded. "Yeah."

"Ok…," Berta said distractedly, writing more. "Name?"

"Fritz."

"Gender?"

"Uh, male." Duck shot another glance at Fritz, who nodded. Phew—she was getting better at guessing gender (although pokémon genders were a lot easier than human ones, she had learned).

'One last question, and then we'll be done," Berta said. "All students are required to take an elective course with their pokémon. The choices are," Berta began ticking them off on her fingers, "Visual arts, theater, music, sports, or dance. Choose one—but don't worry, you have a two week period to switch out if you don't like your first choice."

Duck's heart leapt at the word "dance." Dancing—that's what the prince was doing that night, in her dream or vision or whatever it was. That had to be it—it had to be a clue to finding him. If not, she had two weeks to figure out what other division he was in.

"Dance," she said decisively. "I want to dance." Fritz turned to look at her in surprise, and Duck mentally promised to explain the decision to him later.

"All right," Berta said, scratching out a check mark. "All that's left is for you to sign the form." She rotated the paper to face Duck, and offered the pen.

Duck hesitated; she hadn't ever written anything before. She knew what her name looked like, thanks to Edel, but that was about it. She took the pen hesitatingly, feeling the warm weight of it. Haltingly, she wrote her name on the line Berta had indicated, then handed it back.

Berta gave her signature a once over, tried and failed to hide her surprise at the jagged letters, and then politely placed the paper onto what Duck assumed was the right pile.

"Lucky for you," Berta said, "The Academy has an open-enrollment clause for orphans and homeless children, which means that you can start school tomorrow. How does that sound?"

"That sounds great!" Duck replied, and meant it. She finally had a lead.

"Good," Berta said. "Would you like me to give you a tour? Or I can summon a student your age to give you one, if that would make you more comfortable."

"Oh," Duck said. "That would probably be helpful, huh?"

Berta gave her a small consoling smile. "I think so. The school grounds are rather large, after all."

"Hmm," Duck murmured. "Then, is it ok if another student did it? No offense, I just want to meet as many kids here as I can."

"Of course," Berta said. "If you can make friends with Professor Edel, you can make friends with anyone here, I think. Let me call someone down."

She picked up a telephone Duck had missed previously (it had been buried under the papers) and dialed it quickly and surely. Duck waited patiently as she talked to whoever picked up on the other end.

"Yeah, it's Berta," she said, turning to the side politely. "I need someone down here to show a new student around."

A pause. "Yeah, it's her first day… Whoever you can spare."

Another pause, then Berta sat up straighter. "Yes, I think that'd be perfect. Thanks." She put the phone back on the receiver and turned back to Duck.

"Oh, before your guide gets here, I need to give you some things," Berta said, standing up. "Your uniform, the school rulebook, student handbook, a class schedule—you stay here, I'll go get them." She walked back through the door she had entered from before Duck could say anything. She and Fritz exchanged looks.

"Thanks," she said, sighing into the sudden quiet. "For letting me say you're my pokémon."

Fritz nodded.

After a couple of minutes, Berta reentered the room, arms full of boxes. "I didn't remember to ask your size," she started as she practically dumped her load onto the desk (which was running out of space). "So I just brought the whole junior sizes box."

Duck realized she'd stood up when Berta returned, and was about to sit when Berta motioned for her to stay standing. She gave Duck a quick once-over. "I think it's safe to say you're an extra small," she said, opening the largest box and rummaging inside. She pulled out a dress that looked exactly like Pique and Lilie's: gray and white, with a wide flowing skirt and a puffed sleeve jacket, all with elegant blue trim. After the dress came a pair of shiny black shoes and lacy ankle socks.

Berta held the items in front of Duck, checking that her guess was right. "I think this'll do. It might be a little long, though…" She glanced at Duck's short legs, and Duck blushed. Even as a human she was a runt.

The clothes were folded neatly and placed in a plastic bag alongside the shoes and two small pamphlets. Berta handed Duck the bag. "Make sure to read the handbooks as soon as you get to your dorm, ok? The ballet department will give you your leotard and everything else you need."

She bent over her computer, typing a few things in. The machine beeped, and a little slip of paper slid out of a slot on the side. Berta tugged it out. "This is your class schedule, okay? It also has your dorm number and student number. Keep this with you at all times until we get you a student ID," she said, her tone serious. "Show it to your guide when he gets here, and he'll show you around."

Duck nodded obediently, taking the offered paper. She only had a few moments to let it sink in before there was a knock at the door.

"That's your guide, I believe," Berta said. "Good luck, kid. I think you'll have a great time here."

Duck smiled shyly, and bowed a little. "Thank you for your help!"

"Oh, no problem, I was just doing my job," Berta replied, a little blush peppering her cheeks.

"Still, thanks anyway," Duck said, and turned to open the door.

She took a deep breath, one hand on the doorknob, and Fritz reached up and took her other hand in his. She had a plan, she knew what to do, and she had friends. An unexpected wave of confidence surged up within her, and she pulled the door open. She let the confidence carry her out as she closed the door behind her, a happy grin starting to form on her face—just as she walked right into someone's chest.

"Oh—!" Duck gasped, looking up. Her mouth opened to apologize, but the words died on her tongue as she took in the person before her—blue and white school uniform, the feathery white hair, pale skin, and familiar golden eyes.

"Oh, hello," said the prince. "Are you the new student?"