"You're sure to stand out with your fiery hair," I assure her. "But you don't have to drag your dance partner along to get married right away. You're sixteen."

"Not right away, but someday? In two or three years?" Wendy winks at me. "A sexy baker's son?" She giggles. "And then we'll make plenty of royal baker's children. HE can take care of them then, because I'm busy."

"Your mom wouldn't be pleased."

"Oh! A girl is allowed to dream!" Wendy rolls her eyes. "I want to dance, Naomie," she shouts almost snippily, "Where's all the fun if no one asks me to dance? If no one flirts with me? Woos me?"

"Where is the fun? Lonely and unused, buried!" I joke. "And don't forget that we're put on display before. In a flashy, shameless carriage parade. THEN, exactly THEN we see the common people, and you catch a baker's son with a fishing rod."

"I'm just going to get my fishing rod quickly." Wendy giggles softly. "By the way, an apprentice from the magic school was meeting with Mother earlier!" she suddenly remembers.

"A magician?" Meanwhile, Wendy is done with my hair, and I sit back on my bed. Wendy jumps excitedly next to me.

"Not a magician. An apprentice."

"And what did he want?"

"Or what did mother want from him? Oh, I'd love to know. Especially since I've seen him before... Please don't ask me his name... I don't know him. He has strange eyes, you know? People talk a lot about him. He's said to be barely able to do more than little tricks, but apparently, he's still the headmaster's favorite!"

"Oh?" I ask, "And what did he want from your mother then?"

Wendy shrugs her shoulders. 

"Well. If it matters, we'll probably find out..." I murmur softly.

Wendy nods in agreement.

"And he has strange eyes?" Like mine? I wouldn't call a bright turquoise ordinary either. I like my eyes.

"Yes. They are strangely green," she says with a serious face.

"Strangely green?"

"Very strangely green!"

"If it's just about the color, then I also have strange eyes. Mine are turquoise."

"Your eyes are enviable! It's not just about the color," Wendy contradicts mysteriously. Now she almost whispers: "Your eyes are not strange, but extraordinary! But his are strange! Funny. Weird. Shocking."

"Wendy."

She shakes her head. "I can think of more words!"

I sigh and stare at the ceiling. The light stucco casts shadows on the high ceiling. "Because they're a weird green?"

"They're neither dark nor light green. It's an intense green. And his eyes kind of shine..."

"Shine? Like candles?" I ask skeptically and look at a shadow that somehow reminds me of Penelope. As if it were her silhouette. I bite my lower lip so as not to laugh. The shadow resembles my friend, if you have a lot of imagination. I can see her nose. I look at Wendy as she tugs at my sleeve. "So?"

Wendy nodded eagerly. "Something like that, yes!"

"Honestly? I can't really imagine what you mean... Your mother loves candles. His eyes probably just reflected the light. She likes to put candles everywhere. Eyes always look strange in candlelight," I guess, and press my pillow against me. Wendy drops onto my duvet and looks at the decorated ceiling herself. Roses and birds. She points to the shadow, which reminds me of my friend. "This shadow looks like an angry mouse!"

"Mouse?" Now that she says it. Yes. A mouse also fits.

 "Hm. You'll see what I mean if you ever see him... His eyes are really strange... Almost scary!" Wendy continues.

"Is that so?" And that's important because...? Had Wendy fallen in love with this apprentice? Was that why she wanted to look for a partner? "Do you like him?"

"What? No! He's not my type. To... How can I put it? Arrogant? No, that doesn't fit. Doesn't matter!" Wendy straightened up again and smiled at me happily. "A weird guy is not my type! I want someone SEXY! We really need to stock up on new clothes! We can't show up in old clothes at the flower ball!"

"Can't we?"

Wendy shook her head vehemently. "No. For heaven's sake! Do you want to make a fool of yourself in old things?"

"Thank you for the encouraging words!" I roll my eyes. "Of course I want to embarrass myself in new clothes. Anything else would be a scandal!" Hello sarcasm. My wonderful friend. Please stay a little longer.

"Everyone will look at us. Look what we're wearing! It has to be something strikingly new. Mom agrees."

"Aunt Tanja appreciates a good embarrassment. Hopefully there will be plenty of punch to redesign my robe."

"Naomie!"

"Does it have to be a new one?" I ask, thinking of the one dress in my closet that I've never worn before. It was bright yellow with turquoise embroidery and a turquoise sash. "I have a dress." The dress didn't suit me very well. The shade of yellow didn't fit. In that dress, no one would ask me to dance.

"It must be new!" Wendy announces, determinedly.

"But I have one that I've never worn before. I could wear that!" I object. "It's new enough."

"No! It must be very new! You can't show up at a ball in something old. My goodness. How often do I have to repeat myself? They might say the princess came in worn-out clothes."

"How is the dress supposed to be worn if I've never worn it before?"

"Naomie! It's all about principle! And I know what dress you mean! You're not wearing that. It's ugly."

The dress was a birthday present from one of the more important noble families. A light dress to match my light hair, they said. Unfortunately, the shade didn't match the rest of me.

"Just because?" I look at her incredulously.

Wendy nods eagerly. "Yes. You're a princess and not a poor farmer's daughter. It would almost be a scandal if you didn't wear something newly bought."

"You like that word. Scandal."

"Oh yes! And so do you. Scandals are a wonderful topic. As long as they affect others." Wendy's fingers find their way back into my hair. "Oh! I forgot a strand..."

I have never left the castle. In this dream.

The flower ball.

Will I see it, or will my dreams only revolve around it?

I'm quite curious.

There is another knock on the door.

"Come in!" Wendy calls in my place.

A servant, an old lady with white curls, comes in. She smiles in amusement when she discovers us on the bed. "Hot chocolate for the ladies?" she asks in a raspy voice. In her hands, she holds a silver tray on which are two steaming cups made of fine porcelain.

"Oh yes. The ladies want some!" Wendy calls happily, and we watch as she places the tray next to the candle on my bedside table. "Do you have any other wishes?" The old woman bows briefly. "Pastries? Cake? Fresh fruit?" She looks at us with old, calm eyes. "Breakfast?" Her gaze wanders to me.

Wendy thinks about it for a moment and grabs a cup by climbing past me, through the sea of pillows and duvet. "Pastry, maybe. What do you think, Naomie?"

"Yes. Pastry sounds good!" I agree and thank the old woman. "Is there anything else?" I ask, as the servants rarely bring sweets just like that. This lady has a higher rank among our staff and is therefore also allowed to act as a 'postwoman'.

Not everyone from the staff is allowed to do this.

"Your aunt wants to remind you that you have obligations. Besides, she needs to talk to you urgently, Your Highness. It's probably very important," she says with another bow. "I'll bring you pastries." She walks slowly, with her back slightly bent.

"Naomie. You don't have to thank the staff. It's their job," Wendy murmurs into her hot chocolate.

I take the other cup and enjoy the wonderful smell. "I do. I'd feel strange if I didn't."

"Sometimes you're strange. Maybe the other world isn't good for you." Wendy takes a big sip of chocolate.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, "What other world?"

"Oh..." Wendy's face turns pale. "Damn. Forget that! Please. Mom would be..."