Roxanne was lying on a white bed, her pale hands clenching the sheets. She looked up as Sherman came in, dressed in a colorful hospital gown.

A nursev "She is a palace servant, right?" Sherman nodded his affirmation.

Amy examined Roxanne with pursed lips and shook her head, jotting something down on her clipboard. "How thin you are!" Amy remarked.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-four" Roxanne replied.

Amy tutted with disapproval. "They don't feed you much, do they? You are so slight,"

Roxanne hung her head, unwilling to answer. Sherman said, "She is fed a meager portion of eggs and bacon in the morning and a cup of tea. When I am lucky, I sneak her a bite of bread, and maybe a sweet."

Amy looked taken aback as if this was unheard of. "Why, the poor girl's starved!"

Taking a look at her notes, Amy said to him, "If what you say is true, then the most likely because for her fainting is exhaustion. Tell me, how long does she work?"

Sherman bit his lip. "Typically, up to 16 hours a day," He revealed.

"What! And what are her duties?" Amy inquired, surveying Roxanne's raw, chapped hands.

Wordlessly, Sherman handed Amy a list of Roxanne's duties.

Amy read, her astonishment clearly showing on her face.

In mourning, you are to wake up, strictly, at 5'o clock, make your bed, brush your teeth, fix your hair, and put on a mob cap.

You are to assist the kitchen maid afterward, laying the table and preparing breakfast.

After Breakfast, you will wash the dishes that were dirtied as a result.

You are to clean the kitchen, scullery, pantry, and kitchen passages. Make sure to stay out of sight.

At 9:00 AM, you are to prepare breakfast for yourself with these ingredients: Rice, bacon, and eggs, taken from scraps of the Upper Servants.

At noon, you are to lay the table for lunch for the upper servants and fetch water for tea and washing. Prepare lunch.

Supper: Set the table for supper and wash up afterward.

Additional duties: In between mealtimes, assist the kitchen maid when necessary. Provide hot water for tea and boiling. Scrub floors, tables, and dressers downstairs. Wash pots, pans, and utensils. Do whatever tasks I(Chef) give you. And never, never, go upstairs where you can be seen. You're too ugly, especially with your pink hair, for the king to see.

Amy's jaw dropped to the floor by now, surprised. "Who made this?" She demanded.

"Chef,"

"Certainly. My younger sister is known for her harshness and greed," Amy said. Sherman was shocked by this revelation, but he could see the resemblance as he looked closely. One of the obvious differences was that Amy had a kind expression, while Chef always appeared cross.

"She'll be able to be discharged in a few hours. She just needs some good night's rest and she'll be fine," Amy said.

Sherman nodded in relief, glad that her condition was not too serious. "But I suggest a free day, with no work."

Sherman groaned. "Chef will never allow that, especially with Trollstice rounding the corner!"

Suddenly, Chef sprung through the door, marching right up to Amy.

"Of course, I should've known it was you. When will that girl be discharged?" She asked, saying the word girl with contempt.

Roxanne whimpered and shrunk beneath the covers, the fear in her amber eyes palpable. She hated Chef for ruining her, making her feel hopeless and trapped; she was lucky she had been able to hold onto her true colors as a Troll.

"In a few hours," Amy said calmly as if her seething, cruel sister wasn't standing right before her.

Be kind, and brave, and always remember you have a purpose. You are unique and amazing. Harmony thought, remembering her mother's words. She lifted her head, staring defiantly at Chef. "For now, you should go," Amy said. "The boy will bring the girl back when she is healed."

Chef turned and marched out of the room, but not before throwing one last look at Harmony.

For once, Harmony woke up in a brightly lit room with actual windows, not the dim, gray basement she was used to. Sunshine poured out of the windows, creating a cheery scene. Sherman sat snoring in a chair, drool dribbling from his half-open mouth. Harmony giggled and swung her legs out of the white bed, her black heels tapping on the floor. She shook his shoulder gently, saying "Wake up. Sherman. It's mourning already!"

"Huh?" Sherman mumbled, blinking. His eyes focused on Harmony, and he got up immediately, sweeping her in for a joyful hug.

Then, his smile faded as he remembered his task. "I have to bring you back today, " he said dejectedly, gently pushing her away. Her fuchsia pigtails swung as she shook her head in disbelief. "But I thought I could stay here a little longer."

He shook his head, his disappointment evident. "I don't want to go back to that horrible place!" She cried out, collapsing onto the bed. "I used to live somewhere much better a tree, with colorful pods and tiny, cheerful creatures. Life was perfect."

An unmistakable hope began to seep into Sherman at her words. "Is Roxanne your real name?" He asked tentatively, carefully, as if speaking to a small child.

"No. My real name is Harmony." that simple sentence revealed so much for him. The color of her hair, and eyes. Her charisma and cheerfulness. The fact that they had bonded so easily.

"Harmony," Sherman said, crouching next to the bed and taking her chapped hands.

"It's me. You don't recognize me?" Harmony shook her head, confusion in her amber eyes.

"It's me. Your best friend Trey." Harmony sucked in her breath sharply. Trey? Could it be, or was she dreaming?

But the honesty in his familiar green eyes assured her. He was telling the truth!

Harmony sobbed and threw her arms around his neck. Sherman was surprised but pat her back, humming the lullaby he always heard her singing. "Shh." he soothed.

"We're safe. For now."