Fairy Godmother and Myrielle made their way along the gravelly path towards the looming tower in silence. Back in the royal hall, Fairy Godmother had been on a victory lap in her mind; the bonus coin she'd won...the parties she'd throw...the gold-plated carriage she'd buy...except...when she thought about it...she would usually drink alone in her cottage and didn't even have any friends. And here was Myrielle...who'd made the difficult choice of ruining her life and Fredrick's for the good of the kingdom. Maybe it was the sobering cool night breeze, or maybe it was the shred of humanity within her that alcohol abuse could not kill. Whatever it was, she felt protective of Myrielle, almost in the way that...a godmother would.

"It will all work out," Fairy Godmother said.

Myrielle's only answer was an unintelligible grunt.

Fairy Godmother extended her hand out to pat Myrielle on the shoulder, but nerves got the best of her halfway through and she stopped short of actual physical contact. "If only my magic worked on these complicated human affairs!"

Myrielle snorted. "Magic..."

Fairy Godmother was running out of 'empathy ideas' fast. She fished around in the pockets of her dirty cloak and held out her hand to Myrielle. "Cashews?"

Myrielle glanced at Fairy Godmother's open palm to find a handful of broken nuts mixed in with some random scraps. She pulled out something shiny. "That's a button."

Fairy Godmother grinned. "Keep it for good luck!"

Myrielle laughed bitterly. "Luck? Luck? What does luck have to do with anything at all? Luck is just another name for the things we end up doing to each other." She lowered her head. "And the things I did to Fredrick."

"Don't worry about him!" said Fairy Godmother laughing. "Servants are the most resilient humans at all!" She had no idea what that could possibly mean but it was all that her intoxicated brain could conjure up.

Myrielle wiped the first real tear she'd shed since joining the contest. "Let's just go and face the wolves."

They approached the base of the tower a few minutes later, and as Myrielle went inside and started climbing the narrow steps, she noticed Fairy Godmother struggling below.

"I think just I'll wait down here!" she said.

Myrielle frowned. "But you're supposed to be my shield if things get ugly!"

Fairy Godmother frowned. "But what if things don't get ugly? Then I would have climbed all those stairs for nothing. And how many stairs do I even have left in these wobbly knees?"

As much as Fairy Godmother wanted to help her struggling 'godchild,' she was tired and old in sixteenth-century terms, and already beating the odds by surviving into her sixties.

Instead of responding Myrielle stomped up the stairs two at a time. This had already been the worst day of her life, and it left her with zero patience for alcoholism excuses disguised as geriatric struggles. Blinded by rage she reached the top of the stairs and swung the door open without a second thought.

Inside the dorm, the girls were in the middle of a gossipy huddle, but they started to disperse when they noticed Myrielle.

"You're here..." one of them said.

"I thought Bella caught you in the act..." said another.

'Bella the beast' was the last one to emerge from the huddle. "I caught her alright. And it's strange...because when I left...the prince was planning on be-heading you both." She stepped closer, her face revealing a layer of blisters that had just been freshly scratched. She flicked Myrielle on the forehead. "Tell us then; why is your head still attached to your body?"

As Myrielle struggled for an answer, she realized that she hadn't even worked out a story to explain her current freedom. The last two hours had been a haze of heartache and shame, and her only real takeaway had been Gianni forbidding her from sharing the results of the contest. So how would she explain that she was still in the running without inciting a revolt? She wanted to not care about any of it, but if any good was to come from ruining Fredrick's life, it had to be that the contest carried on without incident so the kingdom could be saved. She considered her options furiously, and realized that in order to keep things running smoothly, no one could believe that she'd actually kissed Fredrick.

With her goal in mind, she dug deeper into the well of deception than ever before.

"What happened was..." she timidly began, "I became ill. At dinner. An illness that resulted from...poison."

Josselyn gasped, instantly believing these alternative facts as only a moron could.

Bella clenched her fists and seethed. "You weren't poisoned! You were kissing and I saw you!"

Myrielle nodded fiercely. "You certainly witnessed something that looked like kissing. But unlike actual kissing, it was a poison remedy that closely resembles a kiss."

Josselyn hopped into bed and propped her fists underneath her chin like she was hearing the latest slumber party gossip. "And then what happened?"

Myrielle moved past Bella and made her way to the only village idiot who would hear her out. "Fredrick was unable to find the proper medicine in the apothecary, and so...with precious minutes passing by and the situation getting rather dire..."

Josselyn gasped. "Did you die?"

Myrielle tried not to smack her. "Well no, because I'm here."

Josselyn grinned. "So this story's got a happy ending!"

Myrielle couldn't believe this fool was her only ally, but beggars weren't choosers and she had to solider on. "Anyway...as things got scary, Fredrick did the only thing he could; which was...poison extraction via mouth."

Josselyn had a sudden realization. "So it looked like you were kissing when you weren't!"

"Exactly!" Myrielle said grinning, internally relieved that the village idiot had figured out the one important fact. Or lie.

Bella threw Josselyn off the bed and took her spot for herself. "But I saw you kissing more than once. And I heard you making plans to leave the contest."

The other girls gasped. "A deserter?" said Helena, instantly ready to incite another fight. "Let's get her!" she growled.

Myrielle put her hands up. "Wait!" Helena held back but she kept herself on stand-by for a beating. "It only looked like multiple kisses because we did the poison-extraction more than once. Several times...in fact." She found herself getting lost in the memory of his warm lips, but as soon as she remembered the beat-down she was facing she managed to push it away.

"How much poison was in you?" Helena asked, her fists still ready to throw the first punch. Helena wasn't an idiot, but she was lacking enough book smarts to succumb to manipulation.

"Sooo much poison," Myrielle said shuddering. "It was extremely frightening, and the more poison Fredrick extracted, the more uhh...delirious he got, so when he started saying crazy things about leaving the contest, I just went along with it to keep him calm."

Aside from telling the prince she could never fall in love with a servant, this was the craziest lie she'd ever told. But would it work?

Helena paced back and forth, in need of additional facts. "If Fredrick extracted all that poison...where is he now? Is he dead? Because he really should be dead."

Myrielle bowed her head. "His condition is very grave and yes, he will soon be dead and we'll never see him again." The last part wasn't a lie, as she'd banished her one true love to a life of cleaning dungeons. A tear fell down her cheek and she struggled to wipe it away before anyone noticed.

"A-ha!" cried Bella as she pointed at Myrielle. "She's crying! She's crying because she's in love with her poison lover!"

Bella's conclusion was the only encouragement Helena needed. She growled and leapt forward. "GET HER!" Her command converted innocent girls into vicious goons, and as the she-wolves descended upon Myrielle, she realized this was the second time she'd been tackled in the dorm. The only difference now was that Fredrick wouldn't suddenly appear to save her.

And yet, the dormitory door opened anyway....

"Stop!" a voice cried out. A second later, Fairy Godmother stumbled in huffing and puffing, clearly exhausted from her late-night climb up the stairs. She raised her wand in a menacing fashion. "Get back to your beds before I show you what it means to be hurt!" A few of the girls hesitated. "NOW!"

The girls scurried back to their respective beds.

"Now then," Fairy Godmother said calmly, "poison extraction via mouth has been used for centuries in the absence of antidotes."

Myrielle was relieved that the echoing acoustics of the tower had funneled down to Fairy Godmother. "That's what Fredrick had told me too!" she said, trying her best to make the lie take hold.

Fairy Godmother nodded solemnly. "Yes, yes he did. He sacrificed himself before meeting his ultimate end." She shook her head. "And now he's dead."

The girls gasped as Myrielle sank into her bed. If Fairy Godmother was willing to say a lie so bold to the calm the girls, it truly did mean that Fredrick would remain in the dungeons down below.

"It's a tragic I know," Fairy Godmother added, "but we mustn't let him die in vain." Her voice was rich with an inspiration the girls had never heard from her before. "Let his death be a reminder that all of you could die just as easily too." It was clear that Fairy Godmother's skills in inspiring the masses needed work, but with gusto she forged ahead. "Use this opportunity of not being dead to do your very best, but most of all...look out for each other as a sisterhood of wenches, as you try to vault your way into a royal life you are in no way entitled to have." A few of the girls cheered. "And finally," she went on, "remember that as women you will always be thought of as less, and put down, and dismissed. It's the nature of a world ruled by men, so you must ask yourselves: are we really going to make it easier for men by repeatedly turning on each other?"

In the scope of one speech, Fairy Godmother had gone from appreciative, to morbid, to nonsensical, and finally to incredibly inspirational.

Myrielle glanced across the room at Bella, the source of such competitiveness and mutual vengeance. Had any of it been worth it?

Fairy Godmother gently waved her wand. "Now close your eyes, go to sleep, and dream about doing your best to win the contest and nab a prince."

She blew out the candles and tiptoed out of the room, without ever mentioning that the contest results had already been determined.

Myrielle buried her head under her blanket and wept softly. There was nothing to dream about while she slept, and only obligations to adhere to when she woke...

[WRITER COMMENTARY: we've reached a low point of awfulness for both Fredrick and Myrielle, but I felt that was important for this story. My goal is to show that when all is lost, it's important to carry on, even if it seems a bit pointless, since you don't know what could happen further down the road!]