In the next two weeks the contest progressed without incident, something that was certainly a first. Another new development was Bella's face, which had miraculously improved since slathering on the contents of the mystery jar. In a matter of a week she was back to her flawless self, and not only had the prince taken notice, but he'd kept her in the contest long enough to advance her to the final four.

The beastly reversal didn't suddenly mean that Myrielle and Bella became friends; if anything it only re-established their earlier animosity. The renewed tension was really no surprise to Myrielle, but what she hadn't anticipated when fixing Bella's face, was how desperately the prince would want to have her as his princess instead. How had Myrielle not anticipated that? Maybe the inevitable contest win had falsely expanded her ego, or maybe she'd actually started to believe that the prince could grow accustomed to her unglamorous appearance.

"I've decided to make Bella your handmaid," the prince declared, as Myrielle escaped from her swirling thoughts and remembered she and the prince were strolling in the garden. It was the evening of the final elimination before the royal ball, and tensions were high for the other three contestants who actually thought they had a shot.

"Excuse me?" she said, smelling the flowers that passed along the way to distract her from this boring session.

"Bella will become your handmaid," he repeated. "As soon as you officially become my wife." He choked down some vomit as he uttered the last word.

Myrielle struggled to wrap her head around the idea. "But why?"

"Because having her as your handmaid will mean she'll always be in the castle, with easy access to our bed chamber, and well...I'm sure you can guess the rest."

She studied his perverted smile with newfound shock. The prince had sunk to a brand new low of being a piggish and horrible excuse for a human. She'd tried to ignore his heartless disposition as much as possible in the last two weeks, but every attempt had been a challenging task and now it was near impossible.

"Is Fredrick okay?" she blurted out. She hadn't expected to mention his name let alone have the nerve to request a 'dungeon update,' but the prince's description of his future whoring made her long for Fredrick's kindness more than ever.

The prince started to twitch like there was an insect in his eye but it was actually the ticking time bomb of rage. "What did you just ask me?" he uttered in a vicious whisper.

Now was her chance to beg for forgiveness, but something about the way the prince handled himself made the fear she should've had for him non-existent. It was probably because of how he'd flinch whenever horses galloped past him, or the way he'd screamed that one time when he'd tripped over a twig and nearly fallen. It was almost like he was made of glass and could shatter at any moment, and if that was the case...she would crush him if he tried to be aggressive in any way.

"I was asking you how Fredrick is doing in the dungeons," she said with confidence. "Is he handling it well?"

The prince turned and blocked her from going any further, his blue eyes burning bright with anger. "The servant you betrayed me with is not your concern."

She met his stare and wasn't the least bit intimidated. "You're certainly one to talk about betrayal don't you think? When you plan on keeping an in-house mistress in the castle?"

"That's because I'm a prince," he said proudly.

"And soon I will be your princess," she said. "And there's nothing you can do to fight it or stop it if you want the kingdom to prosper."

His confidence faltered for a moment, but he managed to kick it into 'fifth gear jerk mode.' "The debt will be gone once I marry you, but that doesn't mean I can't make your life completely miserable for every single day thereafter."

"That can work both ways," she said calmly.

They'd now reached a standstill of throwing shade.

"Just tell me he's not suffering too much," she said sincerely. "Because he's not some horrible monster and you know that; he was a part of your life for ten years."

The prince was annoyed but he was starting to break. "Well he's not dead, is he? He got off fairly easy and he even has his own cell! With sunlight pouring in every morning and everything!"

Myrielle made a mental note of his eastward facing cell. She had no idea how to find the dungeons and no way to pass the guards, but having a tiny picture of his life made him feel less far away.

"Is he being fed on a daily basis?" she asked, a legitimate question based on her peasant background.

He rolled his eyes. "Of course he's being fed; this is the castle, isn't it? We have more food than we'll ever need!"

She glared at him as she thought of all the families who had so much less, and squeezed her hand into a fist so she could pop him in the jaw.

"It's time for the ceremony," a man's voice said.

Myrielle suppressed her punching instinct when she spotted the young servant, the one who used to be the second in command. He'd officially taken over Fredrick's position, and nothing about his presence felt right or fair. She absorbed the wrongness as she hurried down the path, for an elimination ceremony that would bring her one step closer to the victory she was starting to dread...

***

Each time Myrielle had returned to the royal hall for eliminations, the feeling had been the same; painful nostalgia from the last time she'd laid eyes on Fredrick, and his final pleading words when he'd asked her not to banish him. She cringed at the thought as she stood next to her adversaries Bella, Josselyn and Helena.

Myrielle had been surprised to see Bella's favorite bullies advance to the final four, but the prince wasn't the type discriminate based on smarts, especially when Josselyn's favorite hobby was showering his ego with compliments. Helena was likely there for more comparative reasons, like the fact that the girls eliminated before her had suffered from dandruff, thinning hair, knobby elbows or all of the above.

The royals and Fairy Godmother conferred with Gianni on how this crucial ceremony needed to play out. "So what's the angle?" said the prince. "Act like there's family turmoil in deciding who goes next?"

Gianni smiled. "You're finally learning, young man. High drama sells more copies!"

"And makes the kingdom more popular?" said the prince.

Gianni shrugged, complete indifferent to the kingdom cause. "Yes, that too, I suppose."

The prince's eyes lit up. "Then let's put on a show!" He took his mother's arm and wailed. "But mother it's how I feel!"

The queen's reaction was a cold one, so whether or not she was acting was completely up for debate. "How you feel cannot take precedence over family obligations."

Gianni recorded the manufactured drama into his notebook, and as the girls reacted nervously to how this turmoil would affect their chances, the prince took a moment to sniff out his father's approval. "Was I convincing?" he whispered.

The king was busy picking crumbs of dessert out of the complicated embroidery in his garb. He found a sizeable cake crumb and popped it into his mouth. "Such a pleasant surprise when that happens," he said smiling.

"Father," said the prince, noticeably distraught.

The king emerged from his dessert-recovery process and smiled. "Yes of course!" he replied, completely unaware of the question.

"Your attention please," the (useless) servant (who wasn't Fredrick) said. "The prince will now select the final three."

Myrielle and her future handmaid Bella were the obvious top two choices, and in the end the simple Josselyn beat out the feisty Helena, whose street-fighter roots compelled her to bite a knight's arm before her banishment from the hall.

Fairy Godmother stepped forward to address the remaining three. "Only one challenge remains and it's the most important one: a night at the kingdom's royal ball, when the prince will choose his princess once and for all!"

Bella gasped and applauded fiercely, as she was certain the royal ball was designed for her eventual victory. "Will we get to wear official ball gowns?" she asked dreamily.

Fairy Godmother nodded. "They'll be custom made for each of you!"

Bella squealed and started prancing around the hall.

Josselyn proceeded to grill Gianni with questions on the assortment of food that would be served. "A buffet seems like the better option, 'cause then everyone gets what they want, and as much as they want to eat too!" She grinned. "Don't ya think?"

As Gianni struggled not to stab himself in the eye with his feather quill, Myrielle stood still, staring straight ahead at precisely nothing. Fairy Godmother noticed her empty expression, and for the second time in these last two weeks her protective concern took hold. Would she really let her protegé walk into a future of loathing? And if she did, would she be able to leave this kingdom and never look back? She pulled a secret flask out of her sleeve and chugged hard, knowing that the night of the royal ball would change everything.

[WRITER'S COMMENTARY: In this chapter I wanted to explore the baseline low of the prince's personality, and we haven't seen the last of it, hehe...the royal ball is coming up soon, and it'll play a central role in these last 8-9 chapters (yep, that's how many we have left!) Stay tuned!]