"Princess. Hey, Princess."

Couldn't be me. I keep my eyes closed.

"Isn't she sweet?" I feel that already familiar scratching at my ears again. "Come on, Princess. Time to go."

Right. Princess. That is me. Because I'm a cat.

I open my eyes reluctantly, not wanting to be met by the sight of fluffy fur again. I keep waiting to wake up from this—whatever this is. Nightmare? Hallucination? Phantasmagoria? But against all reason, it seems more and more likely that this is real. It's happening. I was a person, and now I'm a cat.

Why? How? Why is this happening? How do I change back?

And what happens if I can't?

The King takes me into his arms again and exits the council room, which is already empty. "You've had a long day, huh?" he murmurs. "You must have been so scared, lost and all alone like that. But you don't have to worry about anything anymore. You're with me now."

If only he knew. I've never had more to worry about in my life. I squeeze my eyes shut and pray to whatever powers there may be that if I can just turn back into a human, I'll never complain about anything again. Searching for a new job with no skills or references will be nothing compared to figuring out how to not be a cat anymore.

Is this magic? Are Dinah and the King onto something with their incessant fairy tales? And if so, what did I ever do to the magician who cursed me?

No. Can't be. There's no such thing as magic. There must be a reasonable explanation for this. Somehow. I'm going to figure it out. I have to.

For now, I'm powerless to do anything but allow myself to be carried into the dining room, where the usual few are already seated for dinner. The King had a point—those meetings really are long and boring. Eveline is pouring Alvin's drink when she looks up and sees me.

"Oh, hello, you!" she cries, as if greeting an old friend and not a stray she just met this morning. Gertrude, who's serving Demetria, shushes her, and Eveline's face falls. "Begging your pardon, Your Majesty. I'm just happy to see her, is all."

"You know her?" the King says eagerly.

"I saw her this morning, Your Majesty," she begins, but then glances at Alvin, probably guessing that it's best not to let it slip that the King's valet almost murdered his pet. "That's all."

The King barely notices, anyway. I suppose all us maids are mere background noise to nobles, even the kind ones. "Isn't she magnificent?" he says. "Come, Princess, sit by me. Get her a chair, will you?"

"You're going to have that at our table?" says Alvin, practically dry heaving. "Your Majesty, please."

But Eveline's eager to comply, practically flinging the water jug aside to move one of the chairs closer to the King's usual place. "Shall I fetch her a plate as well, Your Majesty?"

Eveline! I could kiss you!

"Oh." The King looks ashamed to be remembering that cats must eat, which he should be. "Yes. Of course. I'd forgotten all about that. Do you know what cats eat?"

"Meat, I should think," says Eveline. "I can ask Dinah, she knows all about them. Your Majesty."

The King nods his permission, and Eveline scurries away. I'm saved!

"I don't see why the maids all seem to think they can speak to you as if you're equals," sniffs Alvin. I make a face at him, though I doubt he can tell through the piles of fur obscuring my features.

But the King is looking lost in thought, staring at the door after Eveline’s exit. "Is she new?"

Both Alvin and Demetria look surprised. "She's been in the kitchens a few months," says Alvin.

"She doesn't usually serve us."

"I'm surprised you noticed," Demetria says, voice and brow both arched.

"The usual girl—Lurina, isn't it? Where is she?"

The King is addressing Gertrude directly. She looks more surprised than everyone present. "I—" she manages, eyes darting from the King to Alvin to the King to slightly below the King, to avoid making improper eye contact.

It's now that I realize I wasn't fired after all, at least not by the King himself. It was just Alvin being Alvin. I could have stayed in my room, woken up in my own bed (as a human), and had a perfectly normal birthday.

It's my birthday! I'd forgotten! This is supposed to be a good day! I've never loathed Alvin more.

"I think she's ill," Gertrude finally stammers with a curtsey. "Your Majesty."

"Hm." The King's brow furrows in concern. "Well, I hope it'll pass quickly."

"If we're done discussing the maids," says Demetria. "Might we move on to more pressing matters?"

What those more pressing matters are, I don't fully hear—more about Randstand and unions and letters, I'm sure. The King engages readily in the conversation, forgetting all about my supposed illness. But still, he took the moment to care. He noticed I wasn't there. He knows my name.

I feel horrible about spending the day internally cursing him, especially after I get a little food in me. With every bite, the malice melts away and I'm filled with gratitude, affection, and remorse. It's not his fault he doesn't know how cats work. He's never had one before. I barely know how cats work, and I am one.

Once we're both sated, the King takes me back to his chambers. I've never gone to bed this early before, but maybe luxury makes you lazy. I'm so full, so heavy, so sleepy.

"Tomorrow," he says, laying me down on that magnificent bed again, "I'll get you everything you need. I promise I won't forget. You don't mind sharing with me for one night, do you?"

All of Dinah's strays could join me up here and we still wouldn't take up half the space. I stretch out, mewl drowsily, and curl up. The King chuckles softly, then returns to his book. This time, he even reads out loud. A bedtime story. How nice. I wonder who read to him when he was a child. I can't imagine Demetria indulging in something so childish, but she does have a soft spot for him. Maybe one of the other servants. Maybe...

It's still dark when I open my eyes again. The King is sound asleep beside me. What's happened? I realize I must have dozed off, but I feel so strange. So dizzy. The room is spinning again, like I'm drunk, but I'm not. I can't be.

This can't be happening.

The clock is ringing eleven from just across the room, but it sounds so far away. Like I'm falling away from it. I feel like I'm falling—

And then I land back on the mattress, suddenly human again.

I scream, but it comes out as a purr.