To call Princess Mayblossom unfortunate was the understatement of the century. I entered the Salon to find a cluster of fairy godmothers and princesses (in various stages of hair and make-up) gathered around one chair occupied by a very pretty someone—with purple hair. Even with red eyes and a splotchy face Princess Mayblossom was gorgeous. Lucky kid, to have that kind of beauty at her age.

Lucky? Yes. I just had to remind her for what she did have.

"Men are pigs," someone with practically Rapunzel-hair was saying distastefully as she rubbed Mayblossom's hand. "Men evolved from swine!"

Mayblossom attempted to nod, but froze half-way through and let out another heart-wrenching cry.

Uh-oh. Man trouble. Well, I had been through plenty of man-trouble. I took a deep breath and marched forward. "Let me see her, out of my way."

Veronica pushed some girls away enough to allow me a sight of Princess Mayblossom. Poor, poor thing! Her dress, which once was lovely to behold, was shredded and filthy, almost giving Cinder a run for the money. Dirt clods all but grew from her nail beds. Why had no one begun a manicure yet? What had she been through?

I didn't care if Veronica had been here longer. I turned to her, feeling almost like a general in a war. "Veronica, begin soaking her fingers and find some bright nail polish. Maybe something glittery."

Veronica did not argue, but actually saluted me before bursting towards the cupboards.

"She needs a strawberry facial!" someone insisted.

Strawberry facial. Yes, indeed. "Good idea!"

Like popcorn ideas for improving Mayblossom's condition appeared, so fast I could scarcely hear them all. Shampoo, facial, pedicure, all the basics. Yes, yes. Were there any aromatherapy candles around?

At least Mayblossom was showing something of a smile. I crouched next to her, grabbing her grubby hand. "Are you okay? What happened to you?"

Oops. Wrong question. The tear ducts looked ready to go again. "The ambassador," she mumbled.

Oh, yes. The ambassador boy she had thought was cute. My heart twisted. "He didn't work out?"

"Total creep," a girl said. "Do you have any idea what he did to her? Any idea?"

Of course my mind went for the most awful things first.

"Cad," someone else chimed in. "Princess Mayblossom tells him that she finds him attractive, and the opinion is mutual. So they decide to run off together."

"Back!" Linda cried from the door. She was holding her belly, waving a flowery box of tissues above her head. Brittany was behind her with two bags of bite-size Musketeers. "Chocolate will make you forget that jerk! Chocolate saves all! And if it doesn't, I shall personally take you shoe-shopping on my husband's credit card!"

"Bring me!" Veronica called.

"Chocolate!" I raised my arms, and Brittany chucked me a bag, which I ripped open and handed to Mayblossom. "Keep talking. I need to know everything."

She sniffed, swallowed the candy bar, and grabbed a tissue from the box Linda thrust in front of her hair. Even her nose-blowing was delicate and ladylike. "Well, we had my birthday party. I was going to meet the prince but me and Fanfaronade decided to run away together before then and we did—"

"Hang on, hang on. You fell in love with a guy named Fanfaronade?"

She shrugged. "I guess it is kind of stupid."

I sighed. "Honey, you can always judge a guy by his name when it's that bad."

Linda nodded. "Exactly. You can say it's a cultural or family name, but that just shows the nature of the family or culture in which the guy grew up, so there you go."

Mayblossom giggled and unwrapped another piece of fluffy chocolate nougat. "Thanks. I feel a little bit better. Anyway, we went to Squirrel Island."

I wanted to say something about that, but Linda hushed me ahead of time.

"It was all pretty and quaint, and I thought it would be fun to be on this little island together in the middle of the lake. But it was so uncomfortable, there was no where to sleep…"

I understood that. I hated camping.

"… and there was nothing to eat and neither of us knew how to make a fire. And then he started being awful! He made me go look for food to eat. Then it got so cold that night! And he said it was all my fault and that he only wanted me because…" she sniffed again. "Because I was a princess and rich. So I came here."

If I hadn't hated Ambassador Fanfaronade because of his stupid name, I would have hated him then. I squeezed a Musketeer between my hands—wrapped, of course. "Coward! That is no kind of man!" Then I recalled that I had been the one to tell her to go after him in the first place. Well, for crying out loud, I didn't know what he was like!

"I should have married the prince I never met," Mayblossom sulked.

"You should have," said Linda. "Or at least met him first before making your decision. Maybe he was really your kind of guy after all."

"Now no one will want to marry me."

"Not with these nails." Veronica pushed a small table over complete with manicure stuff. "Don't worry, I am the manicure queen around here."

I ran my hand over my face and breathed deeply. I felt awful still. "Mayblossom, never, ever, ever listen to my advice again."

Mayblossom stared up at me wide-eyed.

"Unless it's good advice," said Linda.

I raised an eyebrow, and she just shrugged. "I'm just saying that you'll probably give good advice sometime in your life."

That was good to know. "Thank-you."

"Can you give me some good advice now?" Mayblossom asked in a quiet voice.

"Uh…" My mind went blank. "What kind of advice are you looking for?"

She was silent a long time. Every girl in that room watched on as they ate the candy bars. Then she took a deep breath and grinned. "I want revenge."

Now it was my turn to laugh. Inspiration came. "That's easy. Wait till he falls asleep. Steal everything valuable upon him and get the heck off that island. Oh, and dump dirt down his pants."

By the time every other girl had chimed in with her individual response, it seemed that Fanfaronade was the all-out victim. At least I had begun it. I hadn't done too many things during my life.

Two hours and a cry fest later, Princess Mayblossom looked as gorgeous as ever. She was ready to meet her prince and possibly kill Ambassador Fanfaronade and his stupid name.

I hoped everything went better this time. When was her curse supposed to end?

My next appointment was a young woman named Susanna. The name in the appointment book didn't mean much—I was almost expecting Pollyanna's cousin to come waltzing in a gingham dress.

I was wrong.

Susanna emerged through one of the most tasteful and elegant doors around. She was tall, she had a good body type, and her face was amazing—nothing too flashy, but good, solid, and pretty. Classic. Her hair was deep red, a color that made me wonder if the red didn't want to stand out too much, but still liked being red. Her dress was equally elegant, yellow, tasteful, yet clearly expensive.

I instantly wondered what kind of princess she was. I had already dealt with Cinderella and Snow White. She was gorgeous, but so were all the others. And Snow White, the most beautiful, was a complete and total snot.

This Susanna did not look happy at all. But it was in a different way than Snow White.

"Hi!" I said cheerfully, extending a hand. "I'm Tansy and I'll be your fairy godmother today."

"Susanna," she replied tiredly, shaking my hand as firmly as she could, which wasn't much. She eyed the mostly empty bag of Musketeers. "Can I have one of those? I'm so sorry, but it has been of those days. Weeks, actually."

I handed her the bag and led her into the chair. "I'm sorry. I know how that feels. Wow, I love your hair."

She smiled faintly. "Thanks. I like yours. I've always envied blondes, but I don't think I could pull it off."

I laughed. "Maybe a darker shade of blonde… well, tell me what you want."

She popped the chocolate into her mouth. "I want the Beast to grow up!"

Ah. Question answered. Beauty and the Beast. "I meant hair-wise."

She shrugged. "A trim. I have all these split-ends. And a shampoo first, of course. It's so dusty in the castle, I think it just clings to my hair. But the Beast is too lazy to get a housekeeper and I certainly can't do everything! I try! I think it's important to have a semi-clean castle, but he's such an animal! Literally, you know."

I turned on the faucet and learned her back over the sink. "He hasn't… transformed yet?"

"Transformed? Sadly, no. And I don't think he would be much better as a prince, either. He's just… he just makes me so mad! All we do is fight."

"Over what?"

She waved her hand. "I don't know. Everything. We just don't get along. But I like him a lot. Ever since the beginning. He's great. He just acts like a spoilt child!"

Did anyone have anything good happening with men in their lives? Besides possibly me? "Spill."

By the end of Susanna's session, I was convinced that at least half of everything was her fault. She was a nice girl, don't get me wrong. And I still wanted to yell at the Beast. "Have you ever thought of just letting him have that one room?"

She sighed. "I know I should. I just can't… Tansy, would you talk to him? Both of us, I mean?"

"What?" I was no counselor!

"Please," Susanna begged. "I have no one to talk to anyway in that damn place, and maybe if he had someone to talk to, too. You're such a good listener. Just come visit us. Please. Before I go crazy."

Well, it was a castle. And I could see she was desperate.

The crazy thing was that I felt a hundred times better by the time I left the Salon. Listening to the problems of others all day was actually a little good for the soul, apparently.

Mary and Linda were at the desk, laughing over something. "Tansy, look at the discovery we made!"

The discovery was Mary's Word-of-the-Day desk calendar. How like her. She could have picked something cuter. The date was about a month in the future, but there was the word.

Fanfaronade: Swaggering; empty boasting; blustering manner or behavior; ostentatious display.

I laughed, too. No wonder the guy had been such a jerk.

"Oh," said Mary. "There's one more thing. From Mr. Maser." She blushed as she spoke, and pushed a block of sticky notes my way. "He left it with me. Don't ask me why."

The note read: Can I give Rowe your number?

Whoa.

"Can't Rowe just ask you himself? Or Mr. Maser?" Linda grinned. "But it's kind of cute, in a way."

Rowe apparently already knew where I lived. But what they hey? I jotted down a large 'yes'.

It was kind of cute. "I just hope Rowe isn't under any kind of spell."

Mary flinched at the mention of spell, and Linda just shrugged. "I doubt it. He's just Rowe Maser. Though he could be a vampire, possibly."

"Huh?"

"I'm teasing. I'm just saying that I've never seen him during the daytime. At least not in my memory."

"That's probably because he works during the day," I said.