The walk was boring., an awkward exercise in preventing myself from saying anything about me and listening to Bastien's rambling while wondering why I had never noticed it before. He led me along the trails I had known for years, blathering on about them. Several times I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying I had already seen them. The entire time he held my arm in what should have been a kind manner, but apparently I just was not yet comfortable with human touching. It was all I could do not to rip my arm away.

While I suffered, Bastien just kept talking. It did not even seem like I mattered, or that I was even there. I was merely something for him to talk to. Truth was that it might have been a little more interesting if I had not known everything already, but I could not help but suspect that he would not care what I knew and did not know.

So I let my mind wander. There was nothing else to do, and I had to admit that someone holding my arm certainly made walking much easier. So there was a benefit of this encounter: practicing walking. I could think about that, think about how my feet had to move, where they had to be placed, all the little details that went into movement. Which led me to thinking about my situation. Was this permanent? Would it suddenly wear off? Bastien did not play very often in my thoughts. There was no reason for him to do so when he was right there. I had never noticed he had talked so much?

The next thing I knew was Bastien staring at me expectantly.

"Yes?" I asked.

He blinked and frowned. "I… don't understand your answer."

Good grief, he had asked me a question. This was unexpected. "I'm sorry, I was noticing… that." I gestured at a dead tree. "Why hasn't it been cleaned up yet?"

Or did he expect me to answer his question first?

He laughed. "A dead tree? What's wrong with a dead tree?"

"It's kind of ugly, Your Majesty."

He let go of my arm and darted up to the dead tree. "No, it's not! It's marvelous! It's dead, it's spooky—"

"Spooky?" I had seen the dead tree before for years. Bastien had never said a word about it being spooky.

"Haunted.

"You think a tree is haunted?"

"Why not?" He pulled himself onto a lower branch and wrapped the tree with his knuckles. The entire tree reverberated with sound. "Do you hear the ghosts?"

I frowned. "Um, no. I'm afraid I don't."

He laughed again and hopped down. "You are no fun. You don't believe in fairies or ghosts or anything interesting."

I was definitely up for believing in fairies. Had I not told him about a fairy only to have him mock it? I sighed and crossed my arms. "And you do? My Prince, you are like a child."

His smile was confident as he pulled my arm back into his. "I prefer to think creative. Such ideas are so much more fun than reality."

"So you have no interest in reality?"

He resumed walking, the dead tree forgotten. "On the contrary, I'm very fond of reality. Hunting, sports, dances, beautiful girls like yourself."

Like myself? Was I supposed to be flattered? Suddenly the question of whether or not this human body was attractive was null and void. It was all I could do not to smack him. That would have been good. A physical attack from some girl some queen had found on the road. Clearly I would not be responding to that. "Oh. So then you're saying your fairies and ghosts aren't part of reality?"

"Well, I have heard of people with fairy godmothers but I have never met an actual fairy godmother…"

"So they don't exist?" Maybe I should just tell him. Tell him just how awful fairies could be. But why would he believe that story?

His face was red now. Had any of his other princesses and ladies bullied him into this conversation? "Let's talk about something else. Singette, do you hunt?"

Finally a question about me. "No."

That seemed to disappoint him. "Tennis, then. Do you enjoy tennis?"

"No, I'm afraid I've never played."

"Would you like to play?"

"Toss a ball back and forth that would probably hit my eye? No thank-you."

"I'm sure a girl as lovely as you would enjoying dancing."

"I'm afraid I've never tried dancing."

Bastien did not seem to have another idea to offer up, even though I waited for him to ask where I had come from, what I did like to do. Perhaps I should have prepared a better history for Singette, but he wasn't giving me the opportunity.

It seemed our little walk would end in silence. I didn't mind. I just wanted to get away from Bastien. So we hadn't spoke much in the last few years. All right. Was that enough time for him to become so exceedingly boring and for me to become blind to it? No wonder he couldn't get married. No surprise there.

Maybe I should have just married the Monkey King, though that seemed a little late at the moment. I kept my eyes forward, waiting for the towers of the palace to come into view.

But just as they did, something else appeared. A little monkey, peeking out from among the leaves above.

For a moment my mind went wild with confusion. I was the monkey who hid in the branches. Was this me? No, that was impossible because I was on the ground and definitely not a monkey. This monkey was bored, disinterested…

And Gigona.

My little almost-stepdaughter. Back when I had been a monkey. The sheer madness of the idea.

Should I call out to her? Yell at her to go away? She was probably going through the motions of looking for me. Though she had found me and was merely incapable of recognizing me.

"What do you see?" Bastien asked.

I had forgotten he was the pressure on my arm. I whirled to look at him, then back to the leaves where Gigona had disappeared.

"A monkey," I replied softly.

The words should have caused an uproar. After all, I had been the monkey he knew best. There should have been familiarity at the word, preferably with a look of sadness and longing. I would have even accepted a happy memory. But while he certainly did not seem bothered by the idea of a monkey, that was pretty much his response.

"There were some monkeys around here the other day."

And for the past sixteen years, I wanted to scream.

"There was a monkey who lived here," he continued. "The other day some Monkey King requested her hand in marriage, so she went to him. The King had sent a lot of monkeys. It wouldn't surprise me if some were still here." He looked up. "If I were a monkey I think this would be a great place."

A minor mention of me. I could have hit him again. "What was this monkey like?"

"I don't know, you're the one who saw it."

"The monkey who lived here! The one who went to marry the Monkey King!"

"Oh!" His mouth split into a wide grin. "You mean Babiole. She was an exceptional monkey. She would speak. Not just say a few words, but talk to you. Hold a conversation with you. We were famous for her."

Bastien should have been grateful we were close enough to the palace I could end the walk. Otherwise I would have killed him. "Thank-you for the walk, Prince Bastien," I said coldly as I pulled my arm from him. "It was good to make your acquaintence."

He did not readily let my arm go. "You're going?"

"I'm tired from our walk."

"But—"

I pretended not to hear him. It was better for him that way. So that's all I was. A monkey who had made the palace famous. A remarkable animal.

I had never been a friend to him, apparently.

I had to find out the soonest time I could get away from here.