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crowd, along with a few nervous chuckles.

"My shoe?" I asked stupidly.

"Yes," he said. "The right one."

I used my left foot to toe my worn right boot off.

Xavier reached into the pocket of his velvet jacket and pulled out…

The shoe.

It looked a bit worse for the wear. Milton had

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drooled on it a good deal over the past few days, and Xavier had clearly had to squish it to get it into his pocket.

He held it out to me. "Put it on."

Was this some kind of joke? "It won't fit."

"I think it will."

"I'm telling you, it won't. My foot is too big."

He leaned forward to whisper in my ear. "You're not the only one who leaves gifts for the witch," he said.

Of course. The witch.

I found myself smiling. The rumors had been true—

he had gone back. But not to get Penelope.

"What did you give her?"

He grinned at me. "A whole box of mice." I couldn't tell if he was serious or not. He knelt in front of me and held the shoe for me to slip on.

I still didn't know exactly what was going on. The whole thing seemed crazy. But he was the prince. More than that, he was the man I loved, and he was on his knees in front of me, in front of his parents, in front of a court full of people, waiting for me to trust him.

I slipped my toes in. That should have been as much as I could manage. The ball of my foot shouldn't have gone past the straps.

But it did. Somehow, my foot slipped inside. It

wasn't that the shoe fit my foot. It was that suddenly, my
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foot fit the shoe. As Xavier stood up, watching me expectantly, I realized why he'd gone back to see the witch.

There, in front of everybody, amidst startled gasps and gaping mouths, the magic took hold. The tingling warmth of it spread up from my foot, over my ankles, up my thighs. I felt the changes again as they happened—hips widening, shoulders narrowing, hair growing, the structure of my face changing. One minute I was wearing my

tattered clothes, a worn boot on one foot and a ridiculously ornate slipper that by all rights was way too small on the other, and the next moment I wore a woman's dress. It was long and white, tight and binding around my rib cage and breasts, billowing around my hips, full and heavy around my legs. On my feet, I still wore one boot and one lady's shoe, but they were hidden by the fullness of the skirt, and the magic somehow kept me from hobbling gracelessly on the uneven heels.

The crowd seemed to gasp as one, and then, there

was utter silence.

I looked up into Xavier's smiling eyes. "There's the girl I've been looking for," he said.

He held his hand out to me.

I wanted to take it, and yet, I wanted to know what this new magic entailed. Was I to remain like this? I hadn't wanted to be a woman to begin with. I certainly didn't want 121

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it to become a regular occurrence.

He must have seen the hesitation on my face,

because he smiled. "Trust me," he said.

Outside, the clock began to chime.

"You're almost out of time," the king said.

I took Xavier's hand.

His smile grew, and he turned to the magistrate.

"We're ready." The clock chimed again, and he added,

"Make it fast."

The magistrate's shocked expression might have

made me laugh if I hadn't been so worried about

hyperventilating from nerves. The only thing that kept me together was Xavier—the strength of his hand holding mine. The sheer joy I saw shining in his eyes as he looked at me. The surety that this was what he wanted.

The ceremony was a blur. I must have said, "I do."

The clock continued its slow, melodic chime. And then the magistrate declared, "You now are joined as man and umm… wife?" He cleared his throat nervously. "You may kiss your bride."

And just as the twelfth chime rang out, Xavier

kissed me. It wasn't romantic. It wasn't passionate. It was nothing more than a chaste, quick touch against my lips.

That worried me, but the look in his eyes was the same—begging me to trust him, assuring me it would be
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fine.

The spectators cheered, but Xavier turned toward

them, holding up his hands to call for silence. They quieted quickly, and Xavier turned to his father.

"You agree I've met the requirement?" he asked.

"I've taken a wife before my birthday?"

His father looked startled, but he nodded. "You have."

Xavier turned to the magistrate. "Declare me heir to the kingdom."

There was a hustle of robed clerks, and a circlet was brought forward. It took forever. I stood there on weak knees, my heart in my throat, wondering what would happen next. There were speeches, and Xavier swore oath after oath. Finally, with much ceremony and overly-wordy oration, just as the clock struck one, the circlet was placed upon his brow, and he was declared Heir Confirmed to His Majesty's Kingdom, Crown Prince of the Land.

This time, there was no cheering. The crowd

seemed to be waiting for him to make a speech.

"The law says I must take a wife before my

birthday," he declared, his voice strong and pitched to carry to the far corners of the chamber, "but it doesn't say I must keep her."

Another ripple went through the crowd, the buzz of 123

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confusion and whispered questions. My heart began to pound in my chest. My mouth went dry. Was this it? He had secured his title and his inheritance, and now he would reject me?

He turned to me and said, "Eldon, take off the shoe."

I did, and I felt the spell fall away. It felt like dropping a heavy wool cloak from my shoulders. I half expected to see some remnant of it puddled on the floor around my feet—one of which was now bare. I looked up to find Xavier smiling at me. "And there's the boy I fell in love with."

"Son," the king said quietly, "I'm not sure this is entirely appropriate."

Xavier smiled at me. "Appropriate is boring."

This time, he kissed me the right way, deep and

sweet and passionate. There was more cheering, and a celebration that spread throughout the land and lasted a fortnight. And so it was that Augustus Alexandre Kornelius Xavier Redmond became the Crown Prince, and I became both his husband and his wife. More importantly, I remained forevermore his partner, and his friend. He swept me away to his castle where we had fish for dinner once a week, and champagne that tasted like sunlight, and Milton never tired of playing fetch with that silly old shoe.

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And the three of us lived—

Well…

I'm sure you can guess how it ends.

The End

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Marie Sexton lives in Colorado. She's a fan of just about anything that involves muscular young men piling on top of each other. In particular, she loves the Denver Broncos and enjoys going to the games with her husband. Matt and Jared often tag along. Marie has one daughter, two cats, and one dog, all of whom seem bent on destroying what remains of her sanity. She loves them anyway.

Website and Blog:

http://mariesexton.net/

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http://www.facebook.com/MarieSexton.author/

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Email:

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ALSO BY MARIE SEXTON:

Available from
Silver Publishing
:

One More Soldier

Blind Space