The soft, steady lapping of the lake and damp smell of moisture in the air had vanished, as had the cold and all the black stone. She was in an inn, Catarina realized, nearly dropping the pearl in her astonishment. And not just any inn; she was in the inn where she'd met Prince Lucion the night of the storm. Curling her fingers tightly around the pearl, she dashed over to the room's door and peered out. There was the hallway where she had accosted the prince, covered by the thin rug she had slept on, and there, running past with his arms full, was the innkeeper's son. She was standing inside the very room she had so furiously fought for that one night. It all seemed so long ago.

Strangely familiar voices floated from down the hallway. Craning her head to peer farther out, Catarina saw that the farthest room had its door open, and standing inside were three men. She gasped, even more astonished, if that was possible. The three men were the merchants who'd shared their carriage with her on the very first day of her journey. She recognized their sea-blue overcoats and the snowy white of Henry's hair. Much to her relief, they all looked perfectly fine and unharmed, although Henry now had a bald patch on the top of his head, which she was fairly certain hadn't been there before. She almost waved and called to them, but then remembered the pearl in her hand and ducked back inside the inn room instead.

The fire was already working its merry magic, thawing the cold that seemed to have settled in her very bones. She went to stand on the hearth and closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth for a moment in blissful silence. As she did so, the soft, sweet singing drifted through her head once more.

Two wishes remain. Wish for anything under the moon and stars, and it shall be granted.

Catarina frowned. Now that she was in the comfort of the warm, secure room, she could think clearly again. Her thoughts drifted back to the night in the garden with Princess Marielle, which also seemed a lifetime ago, strolling between the hedges and talking under the palace's golden lights. What was it that Princess Marielle had wanted to confide in her before she was pulled away? Something about her parents, a secret in her past. But it wasn't just that—it had all been so odd. The way the prince had taken such an interest in her. How the king and queen had listened so attentively to every word that left her mouth. Even the guards being ordered to prevent her from leaving the palace. Why? What was the unspoken secret that had been shrouding her like a veil the entire time she was in Courtside? Curiosity gnawed at Catarina, cutting through the haze of the past few days. Decisively, she raised her hand with the softly glowing pearl cradled in her palm and spoke in a clear voice. "I wish to know about my parents. About the secret hidden in my past."

Once again, there was the faint, golden hum of music, and a golden glow enveloped Catarina. Only this time, a scene unfolded before her, half a memory and half a tale stolen to life from the pages of a storybook. She saw a grand room bedecked in gold and blue, with dazzling chandeliers dripping golden light from the ceiling. With a start, she realized it was the great dining hall in the palace, where she'd sat not so long ago. The edges of the scene shimmered gold, blurring away as if into memory.

Seated on the thrones at the head of the table were the king and queen, but they were not the same ones who had entertained Catarina in Courtside. They were both dark-haired and brown-eyed, and their faces were much softer and kinder. Cradled in the queen's arms was a baby, swaddled in a blue and gold embroidered blanket. The baby blinked. It had brown eyes, the same color as its mother's. Catarina felt her breath catch in her throat, but the scene was already fading out, replaced by another and then another, flashing past in a rapid blur. She saw the king and queen, looking pale and worried, standing in a dark room with a ring of advisors, all dressed in blue and gold. Words floated around them, hushed and urgent: general, betrayal, dethrone, danger. And then, a group of men riding black horses were thundering up to the palace gates through the darkness of night. Leading them was the man Catarina recognized as the king, Prince Lucion's father. Except he wasn't the king yet. He was dressed in the uniform of a general, and his blond hair gleamed. He raised his sword and charged forward, the men behind him following. His eyes shone in the glow of the palace lights, cold and clear. They broke through the ranks of royal guards surrounding the drawbridge and streamed across, the dark waters of the moat rippling below them.

Catarina realized she was witnessing the overthrowing of the old king and queen eighteen years ago. She had heard about it plenty of times growing up. Every person in the kingdom knew of it.

She saw the king and queen fleeing down the halls of the palace. The queen clutched a blue and gold bundle to her chest as they ran through the palace gardens, nearby cries and the clang of swords splitting the night air. The bundle began to wail as they fled through the streets of Courtside, finally reaching the city's docks. The sea was a midnight blue expanse, churning with tumultuous waves. A man, concealed in a dark cloak, was waiting for them in front of a small ship. He beckoned them forward, hustling them onboard. The ship rocked as they hurriedly set sail, heading forth into the dark and choppy waters.

Catarina knew what would happen next even as it unfolded before her. The storm became a howling tempest. The ship was thrown to and fro until its mast snapped like a twig in a tantruming child's hands. She heard distant screams, somehow carried above the wind. And then the small ship was swallowed by a massive wave. It never resurfaced.

Bits of wood and debris swirled away on the waves. Then, glimpsed through the rain and ocean spray, she saw a wooden cradle bobbing on the sea's surface. Inside, thoroughly drenched, was the baby, tucked into the embroidered blue and gold blanket.

All through the night, the storm raged. Finally, as the first glimmers of light spilled across the horizon, it began to die away. As the sea's storm-tossed surface smoothed, the wooden cradle remained, drifting along the shore. Inside, the baby wailed bitterly, still wrapped in blue and gold. Catarina knew the rest by heart. She saw the fisherman rowing out into the calmly rippling waves and then pausing, hearing the baby's faint cries on the early morning breeze. The scene began to fade as he rowed towards the cradle bobbing along in the distance, herself still snugly tucked inside.

Catarina felt slightly ill with shock as the last of the scene melted away. Her parents were the late king and queen, who had died while trying to escape the new royal family after being overthrown, which meant that she... Her eyes widened as a new scene emerged from the golden haze. Once again, the great dining hall materialized in front of her, rippling slightly, but this time, the king on the throne was fair-haired with a cold, cutting gaze. Before him stood Prince Lucion, hands clasped behind his back. The king was speaking, his voice reverberating through the otherwise empty hall.

"I have recently received a vital piece of intelligence from one of my kingdom spies regarding King Aldrich and Queen Coraline's daughter, who was believed to have perished eighteen years ago in a shipwreck along with her parents while attempting to escape the new monarch before we came to power." He fixed his sharp gaze on Prince Lucion. "Princess Catarina is alive. Through some improbable stroke of luck, she survived the shipwreck and was taken in by sympathetic peasants. "

Catarina saw Prince Lucion's crystal-blue eyes widen.

The king continued speaking. "It is unknown whether she kept her original name or has assumed another. We don't know where she's located or who adopted and raised her. We do not even know if she is aware of her true identity or is ignorant. What is known is that she possesses royal blood, the blood of the beloved old monarchy, and if the people learn of her existence, they will follow her without a doubt. The people of Sealin are still loyal to the old crown. If she decides to reclaim the throne, she will have the support of the entire kingdom. In their eyes, the crown rightfully belongs to her."

The king's voice was emotionless, but his face had become twisted with barely suppressed rage as he spoke. Prince Lucion had gone very pale. "But then what-?" He began, but the king cut him off.

"The people of Sealin must not learn of the existence of their long-lost princess. She will turn eighteen this year, as will you." Here, his eyes fixed upon his son with a burning intensity. "You are of the age to marry. It has already been decided. There is no other choice: you will search the kingdom and find the princess." He silenced the prince with an icy look when he looked as if he might protest. "And you will marry her. By your side, she will have a throne, and there will no longer be any risk of her attempting to reclaim the crown and restore the old royal bloodline as the kingdom's monarchy. In addition, it will eliminate the possibility of the people of Sealin staging a revolt on her behalf."

Prince Lucion looked flabbergasted and more than a little dismayed. "But..."

Once again, the king did not let him speak. "Do you understand?"

There was a long hesitation on the prince's part before he finally relented. "I understand."

His response faded out as the scene dissolved, melting away into the golden haze. Even as the golden glow shimmered away into the warm, crackling air, and the cozy inn room once again became visible around her, Catarina's thoughts were swirling too frantically for her to take any notice. She recalled standing in the hall outside this very room the morning after the storm and how intently the prince's gaze had swept over her make-shift shawl, snagging again and again on the embroidered blue and gold blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The same royal blanket that she'd been swaddled in the night the king and queen fled from the palace. He must have recognized it, Catarina realized. He must have recognized the blanket and suspected who she was, particularly after he learned her name was Catarina. That was why he had offered his steed to her and then pried so eagerly into her past. And after she told him the story of her rescue as a baby, he must have been convinced that she was the long-lost princess—convinced enough to insist she come to the palace and then propose to her.

Finally, the truth began to sink in. Her father and mother had been the king and queen of Sealin. She was a princess. Royal blood ran through her veins. Blood that made the inheritance of the crown rightfully hers. It was quite possible that what the king had said was true. Her parents had been popular rulers. With the support of those still loyal to the old king and queen, she could reclaim the throne and reap all the wealth and power of ruling the Kingdom of Sealin. She thought of the grand palace with its golden-lit halls and lavish feasts. She thought of the royals stiff faces and tight voices. She thought of Princess Marielle and the mischievous glint in her eyes. It was quite possible, Catarina reasoned, that with a personality and will like hers, Princess Marielle would end up inheriting the ruling crown instead of her brother. Catarina couldn't help but smile at the thought of Princess Marielle and her royal Companion, Pippin, on the throne.

Despite the shock of such startling revelations about her past throwing her mind into disarray, Catarina was suddenly quite sure of one thing. She did not want to claim the crown or be the princess of Sealin. She still wanted what she had always dreamed of—what she had initially set out to seek her fortune for. She wanted a sweet, simple, tidy life. A peaceful, pretty little cottage by the seashore, with a garden full of flowers and hummingbirds and Frankfurt curled up beside her. Frankfurt. She suddenly remembered what had transpired in the past few hours. As if sensing her thoughts, the delicate, golden singing once again began to rise from the pearl in her palm, floating through her mind in sweet, musical tones.

One wish remains. Wish for anything under the moon and stars, and it shall be granted.

Catarina blinked, considering. She could wish for anything—diamonds or true love or unimaginable riches. One final wish. Her last one. She did not have to consider it for long.

"I wish for Frankfurt to no longer be evil. I wish for him to return to me and be good once more."

No sooner had the words left her lips, then the pearl vanished from her hand, dissolving into a little puff of glittering silvery dust. There was the faint hum of music and the golden mist of the dazzling glow, and then, when the light and singing ceased, there was Frankfurt, standing in the middle of the room and looking extremely disgruntled. His gray fur was a sodden mess, and a puddle of water spread outward across the floor from all four of his paws. His accusing yellow eyes immediately swung around to where Catarina was beside the fireplace.

"Frankfurt?" She cried out, relief and a great deal of trepidation plain in her voice. She was indescribably glad to see him alive, although he was soaked and quivering with outrage.

He spoke in a deeply injured mewl. "You threw me in the lake!"

"Only because you were trying to sacrifice me to the Great Serpent." Catarina was still staring at him as if he might be an apparition.

Frankfurt looked mortally offended. He stared at her with round, innocent eyes. "I was not! It was never my intention to do such a thing." His voice sounded resentful and slightly muffled. "I was planning all along to use you as bait to distract that ghastly giant snake so that I could steal this." He spat a glimmer of something small and shiny and golden onto the wood floor.

Catarina eyed it warily. She was still doubtful of Frankfurt's insistence that he'd had no illintentions. "What is it?"

He glared, his fur fluffed with indignation. "Your fortune, you fool. You see? I intended all along to steal one of the fish's scales. Just one has enough magic to make your entire fortune."

It was, indeed, a fish scale. Delicate and shimmering, as if made of pure gold. "What does it do?" Catarina asked, traces of suspicion still in her voice.

Frankfurt did not answer.

"Well, I'm sorry!" She cried in exasperation, looking up at him. "What was I supposed to think? It's not as if you're the most trustworthy of individuals. In fact, I'm not sure if I believe you had all good intentions even now."

"I never had nefarious intentions. I am wrongly accused," Frankfurt declared, his eyes so wide with innocence that the effect was almost comical.

Catarina simply stared at him dubiously.

He stared back, his expression deeply wounded. When he spoke, it was in an aggrieved, mewling voice. "I never considered throwing you in the lake."

She continued staring at him searchingly, wondering if her wish had inherently changed something about him. He looked the same, right down to his furiously lashing tail and indignantly gleaming yellow eyes. "Well," she finally said, glancing down at the golden fish scale once again. "What does it do?"

Frankfurt turned his yellow glare to the scale on the floor in front of him and touched it with one wet paw. He sniffed, his pride still injured. "It's made of pure gold and will replicate itself at your whim. With this, you will never have to worry about money or riches again."

"But that's marvelous!" Catarina couldn't keep from exclaiming. "You have done a rather good thing, Frankfurt." She knelt to pick up the scale. It was faintly warm and sent a dazzling thrill rushing through her. It glimmered in her hand, catching the light of the nearby fire and shimmering golden. She closed her eyes and willed it to change. When she opened them and looked back down, the tiny piece of gold in her palm had become two, each identical and shining with an extraordinary brilliance. "It works!"

"Of course it works," Frankfurt meowed. "I'm not trying to trick you." He had situated himself on the hearth and was licking the lake water from his fur.

"It's perfect. With this, I can buy a cottage by the seaside, and you can live with me." She stared down at her fortune, cradled in the palm of her hand, and finally realized, with some surprise and relief, that her journey was truly over. She had found her fortune.

"We can live neat, simple lives and enjoy ourselves thoroughly. We can have flowers and hummingbirds in the garden (although you aren't allowed to eat the birds) and a wonderful view of the ocean. I can write, and you can snooze in the sun outside. I'll fill up the days reading and cooking and baking, and there won't be a speck of green mush in sight. Who knows, Princess Marielle and Pippin might even visit us now and then." She couldn't help herself from breaking into a smile as she looked up at Frankfurt.

And that was exactly what they did. They bought a pretty little cottage by the sea and lived, mostly, happily ever after.

As for Frankfurt, whether he had truly been turned good or not was hard to tell. Sometimes, Catarina thought he seemed perfectly content and devoid of cunning. Other times, she would catch a particular gleam in his eyes and wonder if he was scheming to send them off on another great adventure.

※※※

The End