Queen Patricia was thrilled to hear of my decision and demonstrated it with as much excitement as she could physically give—much of it consisted of less of a stony face and more brightness to her eyes. It was as if she had made the decision for me and was quite proud of herself for doing so. Did she have any idea what she was getting into? What sort of woman took in a strange girl after only a day of knowing her? While I could understand Queen Flore's attachment to me, Queen Patricia's was a mystery. If Queen Flore were not so trusting of her I would have been terrified.

I let the logic flow down to self-blame. If Queen Patricia were trustworthy, I had nothing to fear save the question of why; and that had no basis other than curiosity. I could have said no, but in another moment of madness I had agreed. I was getting far too good at just going along with what others suggested. Marry a monkey king, Babiole. All right. Go home with a strange Queen, Singette. Certainly.

It made no sense. Queen Flore did whatever she wanted. But then again, she was the queen and everyone else had to obey her. It was the way of the world. Did the same behavior exist in the monkey kingdom or was this only how humans acted? I tried to tell myself it was my choice. Was there anything wrong with it? I knew nothing of anything beyond palace life. I quite liked Queen Patricia, and this would stick an entire kingdom between myself and Bastien. But the other answer was that I had no idea what else to do.

Much had to be done. I was poked and prodded and measured until the queens were satisfied at my official dress size. Somehow the procedure was infinitely more awkward as a human. I was then asked about the colors and styles I preferred. I answered in confusion, not sure of just what would look good on me. My answers didn't matter, though, as I suspected Queen Patricia didn't care and would dress me how she saw fit. The information was given to a servant, who would ride ahead. When we arrived in her kingdom in a few days, I would have the finest beginnings of a wardrobe, she promised.

For the remainder of Queen Patricia's visit I was at a loss of what to do. I did my best to avoid Bastien and for the most part succeeded. When he spoke to me, I responded, and I even joined him on another walk. None of it was any more promising than the first time.

I couldn't fathom what he was thinking. For so many years I had thought I had understood his thoughts concerning all the silly girls. I was not one of them. I was smart, talented, possibly blessed with a different view of human nature. When it came to young ladies who were interesting, just what did go through Bastien's head? Here I had become a game to him. The more I avoided him, the more adamant he was that he would speak to me.

Had I still been a monkey I would have clawed his eyes out. That would have been a fine addition to the repertoire of the amazing Babiole.

It was perhaps terrible of me, but the day I left I sought out Bastien on my own. I couldn't be sure, but he seemed rather disappointed I was leaving. I racked my brain for any memory of any girl who had snubbed him, but couldn't think of many. I'm sure I did it right, though. I was charming and gracious as I had been raised to be. I smiled and made sure my expression expressed nothing but delight at meeting him. I thanked him for making his acquaintance and for how he treated a simple nobleman's daughter.

Then I left. I hopped into Queen Patricia's carriage and made a promise to myself I would never see Bastien again.

The journey was different than my first; for one thing, no monkeys. It also rained. The curtains were drawn and Queen Patricia seemed lost in her own world. I didn't mind that as I still had no idea what to say to the woman. I had already thanked her and did not want to be known as the gratitude-gushing girl. I mostly sat quietly and stared at my hands.

I still not feel fully comfortable as a human. The space I took up was sinful. I was clumsy. I tended to over think every action even as my body wanted to do it instinctively. Most of all, I missed how I had moved before: quick, light, always ready to move, things so much more acceptable as a monkey.

The drive seemed endless. The rain pattering against the carriage roof would lull me into daydreams I couldn't remember, then the littlest things would jerk me from that and back into boredom. Through it all Queen Patricia was silent. I eventually took to studying her face, and decided that by human standards she had never been particularly beautiful when young. Yet she now bore a certain grace that was as good as any loveliness.

I was not sure how many hours had passed when I finally spoke to her. "Your Majesty?"

Her eyes, which had been formerly half-closed, opened without surprise, as if she had been waiting for me to speak.

I tried to make myself as gracious and modest as possible. "Your Majesty, I have already told you how grateful I am for your kindness. But I don't understand. You hardly know me."

"Nonsense." Her voice was dismissive. "We've known each other over a week now. We've chatted over plenty of things. We argued about history. I still like the Roman Empire, and let's me done with that."

"Forgive me, but a few debates about the Roman Empire is hardly enough for you to take me in."

"Sure it is." Her eyes sparkled with amusement while her voice remained stern.

I smiled. I couldn't help but quite like the Queen. "So you're bringing me into your home in order to oppose your views of history."

"Yes."

The Queen was so serious that for a moment I believed her.

Then she laughed, with its delight quickly slipping into a sound more serious. "You're a smart girl for asking about this, Singette. I expected you to wonder soon enough. I'm generous as I can be, but I like my privacy and I like my independence. I'm no bleeding heart that seeks out every orphaned child dumped into the woods."

I realized I had been pulling at a loose thread in my dress. I force my hands to be still.

She sighed deeply, then leaned forward. "I had a dream the very night we met."

A dream? I was here because of a dream. Queen Patricia was one of those people. Serious and poised, she liked to consider dreams.

"In my dream, I saw a fish. And is the way with dreams, he spoke. He told me to take you to my palace and make you my heir."

It was all I could do to keep my mouth closed. Queen Patricia had said it all without a hint of passion. Stately. Even a hint of boredom. I was Singette, an innocent little daughter of some knight. Far beneath even Babiole to question a queen. But Biroquoi? Who else could the fish have been?

Crazy talking fish entering dreams.

But no. It had to be a coincidence.

Her eyes studied my face, perhaps looking for surprise. There might have been; aside from closing my mouth I wasn't sure at all what do with my face. At last she leaned back against the seat, satisfied with my response. "Call me superstitious, if you will. But I believe in dreams. One has never led me wrong before. My grandfather had a court wizard who often spoke of dream magic. It's all true."

I finally spoke. "You're taking me in because of a dream?"

"Yes. Don't get me wrong, Singette. I like you. I am pleased I like you. It makes me all the happier to obey the dream."

"Thank-you." I wasn't sure what I was thanking her for.

"You're a princess now, you realize. Or will be, when the announcement is made and the papers drawn up. You have a lot to learn."

My heart twisted in fear. "I will try."

Queen Patricia smiled, then closed her eyes. "Good."

The conversation was over. I was a princess because of a talking fish. Simple as that.

All that was left was the sound of the rain.