I was not used to balls. At my old home I would sometimes observe all that interested me and then call it a night, or at least an opportunity to go off and doing something that had interested me. Later at night I could argue with Bastien about the whole ordeal—he always adamant at the wonder of the balls and me mocking him in his tragically innocent joy.

My current position as the star of the event helped none. A few hours in my feet ached and I could not breathe in the dress that had been strapped onto me. Not only did my physical self suffer but socially I was a failure with only the quiet victory of faking it. I could not remember a single name spoken to me.

They all remembered my name, of course. Or at least, Singette's name. So the new Princess Singette tried her best to be the bell of the ball. She was graceful, she was as lovely as a dream, she remembered most of all the social instruction Queen Patricia had driven into her. She walked and dances around like a doll and I retreated somewhere into the back of her mind where I could try not to scream and maybe keep myself awake while nobility after nobility led me around the room.

Goodness, but how late was it getting?

Queen Flore did her best to drag me into a corner for some well-deserved rest every now and then. Fortunately Bastien seemed to be satisfied with his apology and had found some other young ladies with whom to dance—that, or I was too exhausted to notice if he ever looked at me. Queen Flore was even able to save me from the presence of my parents.

Funny how I did not even want to look at them.

Then again, I did not want to look at anyone. The ball was after so long merely a mess of people, colors, and music. That, and a list of names I had no ability to remember. I was only too grateful when the crowded room lessened and others began to show the appearances of ready-for-bed attitudes. I did my best to keep up my now-pasted smile and talk pleasantly to all my well-wishers. Yes, bedtime was fast approaching though not nearly fast enough for me.

Then, when it seemed that the end of the ball was in sight and everyone would leave, a surprise guest made her appearance.

And quite dramatically, I might add. Like something out of a story what could only be called magic happened. A burst of light sent those in the middle of the ballroom scattering and screaming, and the dimming candles were completely blown out. But just as quickly the light was gone, leaving only darkness and terrified murmuring.

At that moment I was hardly the belle of the ball but just another dancer forced against the bodies of others. There was a hand at my wrist, gently squeezing.

"Are you all right?"

I wanted to jerk my hand away. Was it Bastien? I couldn't be sure.

Just as a few candles were lit, a radiant purple glow brightened from the room's center. There stood a woman. Her hair was silver, her exquisite dress as purple as her light, and her eyes the brightest blue I had ever seen.

I tried to find Queen Patricia, but it was impossible to see anyone.

"Stay right here," the voice at my side said. Definitely not Bastien. Definitely not someone who was going to move to demand anything of the woman.

The woman in question seemed hardly perturbed at the commotion her appearance had caused. She tilted her head to the side to get a better look at us all, then laughed, her voice tinkling like bells. Then she stepped forward with a very wide stride and made her way to me. The crowd parted like water for her.

She was only a few feet from me when I was struck my some memory of familiarity. But before I could pull out a name she had spoken, with a deep curtsey,

"Fanferluche, my dear. At your service."

I felt light-headed, and my side companion had better be prepared to catch me.

My fairy godmother was here.

But that was impossible. She wasn't supposed to be real. She was a momentary hallucination by the stream. And much smaller, besides. Then again, I was not my usual size.

Fanferluche turned to address the crowd, her smile growing by the second. She snapped her fingers, and every candle blazed into light. I had to shut my eyes against the sudden light. "Forgive me for startling you all, but we of faye kind do have a flair for the dramatic, I suppose."

More terrified whisperings.

My fairy godmother laughed. "Thank-you for allowing me to honor this ball with my presence. You see, it is impossible that I would stay away when my dearest of goddaughters has been adopted to be a princess!" A tear appeared in her eye, then she threw her arms around me in a shocking embrace. Just as quickly it was over.

Queen Patricia was next on her greeting. Fanferluche was just as gracious, though it was impossible for me to make any sense of the horror and shock on her face.

"You're… you're quite welcome," she finally stammered out. "I had no idea of your existence. My adopted daughter never mentioned you. Singette was orphaned."

"I know," Fanferluche said airly. "So tragic. And yet she has done so wonderfully for herself and you are the only one we can thank for that, Queen Patricia."

I finally took a moment to observe the man at my side. At first glance he was quite ordinary, the type that would most certainly get lost in a crowd. He was good-looking, in a non-descript way, perfectly average in build. His hair was a pleasant brown and the shape of his face was good, though. Had I danced with him? It was hard to say.

But before we could speak to each other, I was once again the object of the fairy's attention. Her smile was like sugar.

"Singette." She said her name with a snap of her teeth, and I realized in horror she knew me as Babiole. "Singette. A name so lovely indeed as your face." She laughed and gave me another hug. "I'll be offering you a gift in front of your guests, be prepared," she whispered.

Gift?

"Several years ago," Fanferluche said in her booming voice "I came to this girl with an offer of a gift. I never forget my godchildren. She had nothing to request then. I feel that makes her all the more the gem of a girl that she is. However, on the night she is declared a princess, I feel I must offer her a gift again. Anything she wants."

Every eye in the room was on me. I could say nothing. I couldn't think of anything.

Fanferluche smiled encouragingly.

I took a deep breath. "I'm afraid there is still nothing for which I lack. I am beyond grateful for all that has happened in my life."

Applause. My new potential subjects appreciated that.

"Well," Fanferluche said. "Once again, call me at any time if you ever need anything."

"I need something!"

Queen Cerise pushed her way through the crowd and I realized I had hoped she and my father had left. Her eyes blazed with fury and her face glistened with sweat and what I realized to be tears. "I need something from you!"

What was one to do when a queen was ruining a princess' moments?

Fanferluche was not the least bit fazed. In fact, she didn't look at all surprised to see her. "Ah, Cerise." There was no curtsey. "I haven't seen you in years. How are you? Things going well?"

"You're a monster!" Cerise shouted. "A monster!"

The crowd was silent.

Fanferluche only gave me the briefest of glances. "I take it this is about your infant daughter?"

"You could have saved her?" King Achille was at his wife's side now, his own expression one of horror. "Our daughter… you could have saved her?"

"I'm afraid, Your Majesty, I am unable to save people. What happened to your daughter was out of my hands."

"You could have prevented her death?" King Achille demanded.

"Death?" Fanferluche's laugh was hardly appropriate—especially when I realized the subject was once again me. "Her death is out of my hands, I'm afraid."

Cerise tore herself away from her husband and launched herself at the fairy.

Even with the little I knew of fairies I knew that to be a bad idea.

Cerise may have had sharp nails and all the fury of a heart-broken mother, but Fanferluche was a fairy. The crowd made all sorts of exclamations and out of the corner of my eye I saw Queen Patricia collapse into a dead faint.

There was another blast of light, at least a dozen times stronger than before. The lights once again went out, someone fell against me, and pure madness ensued.

I don't know if it were minutes or seconds before light returned. Fanferluche was gone and the ballroom was in chaos. Instruments lay about as did people. Guests helped each other up.

I realized I was not on the ground. I was half-way up a marble pillar, my skirt torn partially in half—no doubt by my crazy shimmy to what I must have considered to be safety. The faint memory came forward of me, panicked, reacting, Like a monkey.

I jumped down, but it was too late to avoid some stares. Thank goodness most of the crowd was far too preoccupied with other things.

The brown-haired man watched me the longest. "How.. acrobatic of you."

I blushed. "I… was frightened. I used to climb trees."

"Clearly," he said weakly. Then he forced a laugh of his own. "To think this future queen has such talents. Perhaps you should lead armies."

"I would only run away from them."

We both laughed weakly. This apparently was not the time for jokes.

"Pierre," he said, taking my hand. "I suppose I can introduce myself better at a later time, but my name is Lord Pierre of Cherfore."

"Did we dance?"

"I meant to ask you, but this happened…"

Another scream broke out, a man's.

That's when I saw her. My mother, Queen Cerise, lying on the floor motionless.