Gigona left the next morning with a reasonable amount of fanfare, jumping past a window just as Pierre was passing. He didn't scream, like I secretly hoped he would, but he did jump enough to be amusing. She had said her goodbye to me earlier, but even so I was a little sad to see her scampering off into the trees. I wished her luck in returning to her kingdom and hoped nothing but the best for her while feeling gratitude it wasn't my problem. But was my own situation so much simpler? She was dealing with a world she knew and I still had to navigate the world of humans.

"Another monkey," Pierre said as soon as Gigona was out of sight. His voice was forcefully calm, surely an attempt to hide his panic.

We—consisting of Pierre, Bastien, and myself—were going for was just another walk after breakfast while I wondered why humans enjoyed going for walks so much. Even Bastien had given in. It should have been a relaxing walk, but I was grateful for a last glance of Gigona and something to shake up the monotony.

"Another monkey?" Bastien frowned as he leaned out the window, eyes searching. I had to wonder if he were hoping it were myself as Babiole. Hah. I was sure he had forgotten about that little monkey. "How many can their possibly be around here? And where did you see one before?"

"Last night," Pierre replied. I noticed he hung back from the window. "When walking with Princess Singette we saw one."

"I'm sure it's the same one," I said. Would a monkey-themed conversation lead to discussions of Babiole?

"Monkeys are very clever," Bastien turned from the window, his expression thoughtful. "The one at our palace could speak."

"Like a parrot?" Pierre asked.

"Monkeys aren't parrots," I snapped.

"No, she could reason," Bastien said. "She was very smart. I hoped the Monkey King was pleased with her."

I still sounded like nothing better than an exceptionally intelligent parrot. My teeth were even clenched. "You never speak much of that monkey, Prince Bastien. She must have been a charming pet." Yes, I was baiting him, but I could not help it.

"She wasn't a pet."

Pierre, who had resumed the walk without us, paused and turned back. "What was she if she wasn't a pet?"

"So, Lord Pierre, you call all animals pets?"

"Or useful. Like a horse or a cow or a goat?"

"So monkeys are on the same levels as livestock?" I asked.

"No, of course not. I for one have never heard of anyone riding a monkey or milking one."

I laughed right out at that, doubling over with my hands clutching my ribs. A small part of me wondered what Queen Patricia would think of that but I had yet to learn how a proper princess would laugh.

Both men watched me, amused, which only made me laugh all the harder. Was this part of propriety, watching a lovely princess laugh herself silly?

"Apparently she found that funny, Lord Pierre," Bastien said softly, a small grin on his face.

Pierre did look pleased with himself and, in my altered state of laughter, I imagined him attempting to come up with other amusing anecdotes for me. At last he thought of one. "I always have wanted to try monkey milk."

It was a little too indecent for my taste, but the attempt worked enough and I set into another round of giggles. Pierre's ego had never had such stroking. At last I gained control of myself and straightened up, gasping for breath.

"Excuse me," I said with all the dignity I could muster. "I can't remember the last time I had laughed so hard."

"Lord Pierre was actually quite serious about his comments," Bastien said. His smile was less genuine, somehow forced. It could not be good for him to have to compete against another man for a girl's attention.

My hands moved to my hair. I had so much hair now and it needed almost constant thought to keeping it nice. Besides, a lady always had to look nice, according to Queen Patricia. "Was he? Prince Bastien, you were the one who had a pet monkey. You would be the expert on such things."

His face turned a satisfying shade of red. "I wouldn't know. Babiole wasn't a pet. She was part of the court."

"So she was never used as livestock?"

"I should think not."

Part of me was surprisingly glad Bastien had thought more of me than that. "I still have trouble believe she was actually a part of your court. Monkies cannot be courtiers. It's insane."

"She could speak. People loved her. You visited my home, you have heard all of this."

Pierre struggled to keep his face from falling. He clearly did not like being ignored. "I wasn't aware you had a talking monkey."

"Actually, I believe his royal mother the Queen was the owner of the talking monkey," I said.

"No one owned her, exactly." Bastien's face was still red. I had forgotten how funny he could look when uncomfortable.

"So a monkey earned its way to being part of your court?" Pierre asked.

"Yes." I struggled to keep from putting my hands to my hips. It was a very instinctive human action of frustration. "How did this monkey join your court?"

"My mother got her as a pet for me," Bastien replied. "But I still declare she wasn't a pet. Certainly not a pet."

"Which is it, then?" I asked. "Was she a pet or wasn't she?"

"How did she talk?" Pierre asked.

For the briefest moment Bastien looked ready to bite his lip off. Then, in a classic twist of Bastien attitude he threw his head back and laughed. "Why are you all so concerned with this monkey?"

"You are the one who brought her up," I said with a shrug that I hoped appeared indifferent to the whole conversation. Had my voice risen much during it?

"No, Princess. You brought her up. You specifically addressed me for information regarding monkeys. As if I'm the expert source of monkey-based knowledge in this group."

So I had brought myself up. That did not mean he had to respond. I decided to take a different conversation route. "Actually, if I may say so, I know quite a bit about monkeys. And no, Lord Pierre, they are traditionally not for livestock purposes though I can't speak for every culture in the world."

"Ah!" Pierre exclaimed. "So you are a scholar, then?"

"I dabble."

"I like histories," he continued, his face bright. "I am currently studying the span of the Roman Empire."

"I have yet to read any of that but I'm sure it's fascinating." Perhaps Pierre would be wonderful for discussing such things. Goodness knew Bastien was too silly to read such things. "I love histories. And the sciences. I like reading occasionally about the sciences."

Pierre laughed. "I can't imagine Queen Patricia had to do much with you to present you as a princess! You are a delight!"

"Thank-you!" I replied, flattered.

Bastien said nothing.

Perhaps I was just far too cruel. I turned to him, grinning. "What about you, Bastien? Do you enjoy studying histories? Or the biology and habitats of monkeys?"

He shook his head. "I guess I never had the head for those." He cleared his throat. "Which do you prefer?"

"Clearly she has made a specific study into monkeys," said Pierre.

Only enough to study myself, but there was no point in bringing that up. "I like animals. A good study of animals is always good to read."

"I always wanted to read more about astronomy."

"And I want to learn about the Roman Empire. You'll have to lend me some books, Lord Pierre."

"I will have to and they are yours at your bidding. I have quite a collection. At least, my family does. I have a crazy old uncle who is determined to trace our lineage back to the rulers of Rome—"

"I enjoy reading about fairy tales," Bastien interrupted.

I couldn't believe he had said that out loud. I had never thought he would use that information for any purpose than impressing a girl with his tenderness and romance. That was when I realized I was a girl he was trying to impress. "That's very nice, Prince Bastien, but we're talking about real books here. Tomes of knowledge. Not fairy stories and romance."

Pierre smiled.

Bastien did so, as well. The sort of smile that spoke of a challenge. My heart skipped a beat and I realized Bastien had no intention of backing down. "I'm surprised that you have such disdain for fairy tales. After all, you are the one practically living one."

I froze. He had no idea how true his words were.

He continued. "A homeless girl without wealth or family suddenly transformed into a princess surrounded by prospective husbands. And with a fairy godmother to boot."

"Prince Bastien is right about that," Pierre said with a nod.

I rolled my eyes. "A fairy godmother I've seen twice who attacks neighboring queens."

"Who probably deserved it," said Bastien. "Queen Cerise is very unpopular."

"Twice?" Pierre echoed. "You have seen her more than once."

My mouth fell open in anticipation of a response that was not coming. "I…" I couldn't think of anything. I picked up my skirt and made the move to continue our walk, moving my feet as fast as the dress would allow me.

Unfortunately Bastien and Pierre's clothing allowed them more freedom with movement. They darted after me. Bastien seemed the most amused and impressed with the news while Pierre just looked startled.

"Well, well, well," Bastien said. "So there is more to this little fairy tale than she is letting on. It only seems proper."

"She of course came to me when I was a baby," I said. That was technically true, though it made for three times. "So twice."

"But you don't remember her when you were a baby," said Pierre. "You were too small. Babies don't remember such things."

Somehow he had managed to learn of the Roman Empire and still be a dolt. "Of course they don't," I said tersely. "I just meant—"

"I don't think you want to tell us what you really mean." I had never seen Bastien look so happy.

"I'm going to call guards on both of you."

"Oh, you will not."

"I just might."

"I did nothing wrong," Pierre said defensively.

"Which would make calling the guards even more fun for me."

"It's just a simple question," Bastien insisted.

I rounded a corner of the hall, stopped, and turned to face both of them. I knew I was making it worse by acting so weird about it. "And my simple answer is that neither of you need to know about the dealings with my fairy godmother."

Pierre gasped. "So you have made a request from her, then?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then that's what we're asking."

Bastien nodded in agreement. "Yes. What was this other meeting with your fairy godmother?"

I looked him right in the eyes. He was so very handsome and so very irritating. "If I told you the truth about it, would you really believe me?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm not so sure you would, Prince Bastien. In fact, I daresay you would instead make fun of me."

"Only if it's ridiculous." He was beginning to look uncomfortable again, thank goodness.

"Is that so? Then what is ridiculous? When was the last time anyone told you about a fairy godmother and what was your reaction?"

Unless some other girl had mentioned a fairy godmother over the years, I knew the answer. Babiole. Me.

"If I trusted them," he said slowly, "I would believe anything they had to say."

So he didn't trust me. I almost said it aloud. Instead I smiled. "Fine, then. I will tell you. Both of you." Pierre surely wanted to be included. "Some years ago, I was eating a picnic lunch by the water and met with Fanferluche for the first time in my memory. We talked for a few minutes and that was that. A rather boring story, I'm afraid."

"Actually," Bastien said. "It answered my question. All I wanted to know."

"You may make fun of it, if you wish," I said.

"Why would I do that?"

What a frustrating question. I had no idea why he would.

Which is why I wanted an answer.