It’s just an in-between face.

Croi takes off the lacy veil and looks at herself in the mirror. Once again, she’s taken aback by the jeweled colors of her eyes. Her face… It hasn’t changed much. Still hideous but a more acceptable sort of hideous than it used to be.

The most dramatic change is in her body shape. She now has curves. She used to be completely flat in the front, but now… Croi looks down at her bosom again and makes a face. What is she supposed to do with them?

“I’m back!” Tinder announces from the doorway. Croi looks up to see Ceara behind Tinder. Following the Fire Princess are two servant kin holding trays filled with food.

Ceara looks Croi up and down, her face betraying her shock. “You… Why have you changed so much? Has your hair grown longer?”

Croi hadn’t even noticed the length of her hair, but the princess is right. It did grow longer. Now it is almost to her knees.

You have to give them some sort of explanation.

“The truth?” Croi doesn’t know if it is possible for her to hide her situation anymore.

Parts of it. Don’t tell them about me.

Croi waits until the servant kin have placed the trays of food on a short table in the sitting area on the side of the room. Once they leave, she settles in front of the food, intensely aware that she is the focus of two unblinking gazes. “Can I eat something first?”

“No,” Ceara replies immediately.

“I might die.” Croi whimpers.

“You won’t die.” Tinder is heartless too.

“Fine. Do you know why I am so resistant to having Glamour put on me?” Croi crosses her arms and looks grumpy. The other two stare at her without replying. “It’s because I’m already under a Glamour. How I am is not how I really am—does that make sense?”

“The Glamour spell on you is in the process of breaking?” Ceara frowns. “How long have you been Glamoured?”

“Almost seventeen years,” Croi says, distracted by the food on the tray, specifically by the meat, cooked in gravy and served with tiny puffy grains. There are nuts and other strange but obviously delectable things on the plate. It smells delicious.

“Seventeen years?!” Tinder exclaims, startling both Ceara and Croi. “I didn’t know Glamour spells could last that long!”

“Neither did I.” Ceara looks thoughtful. “Do you know who cast it on you?”

The kin the princess met didn’t tell the princess her secrets.

“Are we that kin’s secret?” Croi thinks.

We seem to be.

“Well?” Ceara prompts.

“No,” Croi replies. She picks up a fork and scoops up some puffy grains. It tastes as delicious as it looks. “I don’t know who gave birth to me or how I ended up in the human world. The person who took care of me wasn’t all that forthcoming with answers.”

“Does it hurt every time the Glamour breaks?” Tears sparkle in the pixie’s eyes. Croi feels strange when she sees them.