Mimi had difficulty getting to sleep that night. Her last few precious moments of humanity were wasted in a fuming desire to pound on Jacob's door and demand he speak sensibly to her. Even as a goose she held herself in anger, wondering just what was his problem, before finally falling asleep.

He was gone by the time she awoke, no doubt off to clean up the soup mess she had left. She hoped it would be near impossible to clean. Then, of course, he would dump it off on one of those poor cooks or maybe Abe to wash. She could see him doing that. He had also left her no breakfast, she noticed plainly enough. No matter. She was not hungry and probably would not have eaten whatever-it-would-have-been anyway.

The bigger of the blue chairs, she discovered, was a perfect fortress. She squeezed herself back into it, feathers bristling over her body. She really hated being a goose. If she were not a goose, she would go find Prince Matthias immediately and tell him yes, she would love to marry him, if doing so would at least get her away from Jacob.

But that would be silly. She focused on a patch of floor which proved to be quite fascinating, at least calming. Why was she so mad? The events of the night were hazy, but she could still feel the antagonism that had sprung up inside of her at his stupid interrogation. Yes, that was why she was so mad. What business of his was it? Prince Matthias had proposed to her and Jacob had nothing to do with it and she did not have to answer him.

Then again, he had only asked a few questions, however rudely. What was so wrong with answering him? She could have told him the Prince has proposed to her, she had not yet made up her mind, and that would have been that. Jacob even then would have gone on with the nighttime wedding ridicule and the rest of it. There would not have been a difference. Why had she not answered him? She had somehow received the attentions of royalty (still how the word made her heart leap!) and she could have bragged. Jacob was at least someone to whom she could have bragged.

But it was not his business. It was hers. And he had no right to get so riled up about it. Stupid Jacob. He was so infuriating.

She stretched out her wings and fluttered about the room. They ached for more space, simply ached. She closed her eyes and sighed. Human. She was Mimi, daughter of Weatherbold. She was human, human, human.

A human who was at the present time trapped in the form of a goose. The window's latch still had not been properly closed, so she flicked it open and made her way outside.

The day was mild, the best term she could give it. Clouds, wispy and weak, stretched over the sky, still unable to keep out the stronger sunrays that did a reasonable job of warming the air. The day held a strange calm, but one that did not bother her. She liked the smell of it, and it did not seem to threaten her. With a sudden laugh she took to the air, wings only clumsy for the first few moments.

Mimi shot up higher, higher than any of her practice flights. The goose body loved it, and even her mind loved the flip of her stomach, the sheer wonder of being so high up. Beneath her the manor and grounds shrunk and the city stretched out before her. Her wings caught an uplift of warm air and for a short while she hung suspended before she again felt the need for any flapping. She flew over the city and gazed at its citizens going about their businesses without any care for anything happening at the manor. Part of her wanted to envy them, but the other part of her just did not care. She was above them, poor grounded creatures, and soon they were behind her, replaced with an open stretch of farmland and field, yellow and green and brown and all the other colors of the land in a dizzying patchwork.

It was incredible. All of it. All those years shut up in a castle had not given her this. She flew faster, loving the joyful ache of her muscles, the wind in her face.

Maybe this curse was not so bad. Did Lavender have any idea of this?

But eventually the question arrived of where should she go? Home to the castle? And just where did she plan to find that dilapidated building buried in a wood? Find Prince Matthias? He would be returning to the manor anyway and she still did not have an answer for him. Somewhere else entirely?

Reality could be an unpleasant thing.

So she returned to the manor and landed gracefully in the garden. She was a very good flyer, she decided. Her calling in life, apparently, if this curse were never broken.

Prince Matthias would find a way. He had promised. Or Blake would find a way. Her two champions. Between them, someone would figure it out. If Matthias would return home and ask that court pet wizard. If Blake would stay put for five minutes. If Jacob would help her instead of being a jerk.

She was getting sick of waiting for one of them to fix this mess.

That was it. There was a library. Surely it would contain maps. Surely the castle would be on one, her father was famous enough. That night, she would convince Matthias to take her to the library. She'd find the way home and face Lavender herself.

The idea was oddly exciting.

Mimi spent the rest of the morning outside, happily going over her plan. There was not much to it, admittedly, but it was her plan just the same. And the beauty of the day seemed to make the future examination of a map all the more wonderful. She missed being outside. Indoors was too stuffy.

She had gone over her imagined defeat of Lavender in her head for the hundredth time when, as if by irony, Blake scampered up to her, one plan too late to help her. Even so, she could not help but be happy to see him. "Blake!"

He bowed, as gallantly as a squirrel could bow. "I'm sorry, Mimi. I shouldn't have kept away so long. It's just…"

Poor, dear Blake. "It's all right. I understand. You lost your brother."

"You should have been first. You're the lady."

"Blake, I'm fine." Except for the whole Jacob incident. "I… I saw something you should know about. It was the Duke. I'm sure of it." She told of the Duke sleepwalking and talking. "He was talking about Eugen. He had to be."

"I'm not surprised." His voice was dark.

"What are you going to do?"

"Kill him." He paused. "If I can that in front of you."

"He deserves it."

"You don't know the half of it, Mimi. If you had been there that day. It's injustice. And I kept thinking Eugen would make everything right. I shouldn't have thought that. I should have come back and helped."

"Even as a squirrel."

"Even as a squirrel. The joke that I am." He gazed up at the manor. "I should just come inside and find him. Bite off his nose."

She laughed, and Blake even smiled. "I want to do something, Mimi. Anything."

Perhaps she had thought poorly of him earlier. He was doing the best he could. "I'm going back home, Blake. I was going to find a map, but… no, I'll find a map anyway, in case you want to stay here. Or you could make one for me. Either way, I'm going back. I'm going to make Lavender change me back and find my father."

He stared hard at her, and she could sense he was impressed. "How will you make her?"

"I haven't thought to that part yet. But I will. Then, I'll make her change you back. And then we'll come back here and take care of the Duke."

"I haven't got her to change me back in all these years."

"You think I can't?"

"I never said that. I just think you need a plan."

"It's in progress." She stared past the manor gates. "I could find my father. He could stop her. She was afraid of him. Whatever she did to him, it's because she was afraid. When I get back to the castle…"

Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of two figures walking through the grounds. Abe and Jacob, Abe holding a big basket of vegetables and chattering, and Jacob… His eyes briefly locked with hers, not surprised, a glare. Then he looked away.

She watched them go, once again furious. Goodness, but could she not let last night go? Though apparently he was still mad. What did he have to be mad about?

"Your friend?" Blake asked.

She was pulled back to the present. "Him? Oh, I suppose. Not at the moment. We fought last night. I'm not even sure what it was about. But he had no reason to get upset with me."

"You're still angry?"

"Yes!" It was humiliating to admit it, but that was the truth. "I spend years slaving away for Lavender, doing whatever she told me to do, never getting to do what I want, hardly getting a moment to think about what I want. Then he comes along and demands something that isn't even his business, like I'm supposed to tell him just because he says so, like I'm one of his underling cooks."

"What did he ask about?"

She glared at Blake.

"I'm kidding."

She sighed and shook her head. "I guess I'm sick of being told what to do."

Blake picked up a blade of grass and tore between his paws. "So there lies the source of this new desire. You're mad at someone."

"He was mad first!" She took a deep breath. "The Prince asked me to marry him."

"What prince?"

She had already said too much.

"For crying out loud, Mimi, what have you been doing here?" He ripped up another piece of grass. "Does this prince know about you? No wonder your friend is mad!"

"Please, Blake, don't be mad at me. I can't stand anyone else being mad at me."

He sighed. "I'm sorry. I understand. If I had your hour, I'd use it."

"To kill the Duke?"

"Among other things. What did you say?"

"I refused to tell Jacob. He got so—"

"No, not to him. What did you say to the Prince?"

Oh. The proposal itself and her answer to it had fallen to the back of her mind. "I told him I couldn't decide yet."

"Personally, I think we should break your spell first."

"That's just it, Blake. He knows about the spell. Some of it, anyway. He's going to find a way to break it."

Blake gave her a genuine smile. "I'm happy for you, Mimi. You've found yourself a winner. So when shall we take off for your castle?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Mimi did not return inside until sunset. She and Blake would leave in three days—she felt that would be enough time to make up her mind with the Prince. She had eaten from the garden and was thus able to ignore the plate of plain bread Jacob must have grudgingly brought her. That would show him. She didn't need him to bring her food. She flipped open with her bill a book and began to read. When Jacob entered, she ignored him and he did not say a word to her. The fight was stupid, but he had started it. She allowed herself a nap, hoping the upcoming transformation would wake her up in time.

It did. She reached for her dress, kept behind the chairs, and something clattered to the floor. A brush. She wanted to throw it against Jacob's door. What now? Was he making fun of her again? But instead she used it for its purpose, on her hair, ripping through all the little snarls until her hair finally hung as she always hoped it would, long and thick and the color of strawflower. She pulled the ring from her pocket and slid it onto her finger. There was no answer, but at least Prince Matthias would see she was still thinking.

Prince Matthias was waiting for her in the hall with flowers. Roses. "I found them in town," he said, kissing her. "I thought you'd like them."

"They're lovely. How was the trip?" she asked. "The oh-so-wonderful hunting lodge?"

"Interesting, actually. I was surprised. This dukedom is better than I ever imagined."

"So you didn't miss me?"

He blushed. "Of course I missed you!"

"I hoped you would. Look, I still have your ring."

"But do you have an answer for me?" He begged like a child.

"I'm sorry, but I don't. I'm still thinking. Is that all right?" She pressed her nose into the roses. "These are beautiful."

"Like you. What else can I do to make you think of saying yes?"

She shrugged. "Prince Matthias, I don't think it's that simple."

"Walks," he said. "Long walks in the sunset. Dinner. A romantic dinner. The Duke has a wonderful set of cooks, by the way."

He had to bring up Jacob.

"That's what I would do. The sunset obviously wouldn't work if you're under a spell, but I would pay one of the cooks to whip up a delicious midnight meal for just the two of us. I can't imagine you eat well under a spell."

"I really don't want to talk about the cooks right now," she snapped. Then she bit her lip. Too harsh. "I'm sorry."

Prince Matthias frowned and took her hand. "Mimi, what's wrong?"

She looked up at him. He was wonderful. Maybe she should say yes, give into him. "It's nothing."

"I don't think it's nothing."

"I… fought with one of them. Jacob, the ugly dwarf one, if you've seen him about. I was wearing the ring and he saw it and… he's just been vile since."

"You're around the cooks? When you're under your spell?"

She nodded. "I don't know where else to be here. Jacob was helping me, until last night. The whole thing is ridiculous and I'm mad at him. I shouldn't speak of it here. I'm sorry."

"You're right about that."

Mimi stepped back from him. "What do you mean?"

The Prince shook his head, arms up. "I don't know, Mimi! You tell me. I'm in love with you. You know that. And save for today I've been here for a week, all day. But apparently you can't bother to seek out my company during the day over that of a mere cook! I don't care what you look like under your spell. Don't you know that yet? After everything?"

"I told you, I can't talk about the spell!"

"But you can talk to other people about it! I'm here right now, I missed you last night terribly, and all you can do is talk about how mad you are at your cook friend Jacob."

"You're the one who brought up cooking!"

"No, I brought up dinner. That's all I did. I just want you to marry me." He pounded a fist against the wall and held it there as he panted. Then he breathed deeply. "I'm sorry. But I do love you. I just want an answer, whenever you're ready. I'm sorry."

Mimi stared at him. Her heart pounded in her ears. "I told you, I can't give you an answer yet." She turned around.

"Mimi, wait!"

"I'll see you tomorrow night," she called back.

He did not follow her. She was glad for that.

Mimi awoke early with the sun. Prince Matthias' ring lay on her chair next to her; she had forgotten to remove it after she had marched off. Fights were certainly coming easily to her lately.

Jacob's door opened, and he stepped out. "Oh. You're up." His sole comment.

She was still mad. Not as mad as before, but still mad. Why was she still mad? What should be her response? Thank him for the hairbrush? She just followed him out the door and to the kitchen.

The kitchen was warm and bright with sun. The cooks laughed and chattered aimlessly as they worked, though Jacob did not participate. Jerome and Wilhelm eventually started a dough fight with little Abe, and all that received was a snap from Jacob.

Michael rolled his eyes. "They're just having fun, Jacob."

"I don't care."

A servant came in for the Duke and Prince's breakfast, and other servants wandered in for their own snatches of breakfast. Lucy appeared, all sunny, only to talk quietly with Michael in a corner of the kitchen. Mimi could not hear them and she did not care.

The waiter reappeared in the middle of their conversation. "The Prince wants to see the cook."

Michael and Jacob exchanged glances.

"The one who prepared his breakfast. Who was that?"

"I," said Jacob. He looked again at Michael, who shrugged, and left.

Mimi watched him go, curious. She had mentioned Jacob's name last night. What would the Prince do? Reprimand him for information he shouldn't even know?

A few minutes later, Jacob returned, expression blank.

"What was that about?" Abe asked. "Did you meet the Prince? Is he as wonderful as all the girls say?"

"He liked breakfast."

"Well, you are a fine cook," said Jerome.

"Was that it?" asked Michael.

"He had a request for dinner," Jacob continued. "Something called Suzeraine or something like that, I don't know. Does that sound like something you know, Michael?"

Michael shook his head. "He had better not expect us to make odd royal dishes out here. Just prepare something else."

"Can't. His Madness turned the request into a demand. Now he also wants this thing."

"Suzeraine?" Abe shook his head. "What exactly is it?"

It sounded vaguely familiar to Mimi. Yes, she had eaten it before. Years before, as a child. She thought hard. Why would Prince Matthias want to eat it? She hadn't liked it, though her father had. Some kind of dish stew, fish and wheat and cream…

"Well, what are you going to do?" asked Wilhelm. "I don't know what it is. Did you tell them that?"

Jacob was silent.

"Well?" said Michael.

"I… I wasn't thinking clearly. I said yes, I'd make it for dinner."

A collective groan echoed through the kitchen.

Well, it was nice to see Jacob squirm. "Jacob," she called softly.

He did not look at her.

"Jacob."

He still ignored her.

Finally, she gave a great goosey honk that snared everyone's attention.

She would help him. But she would make beg, make him apologize first. "I think I know what it is."