Sarah opened the door to Isabelle's room, looking slightly flushed and tired. Isabelle turned to see her, the young girl's face glowing in the sunlight that came through her opened curtains. Flowers lay strewn on the table, and she was picking through them gingerly and placing them in her hair.

"Ah, you imp, I knew you had my flowers! I've been looking everywhere for them!" Sarah's manner seemed forcibly gay.

Isabelle smiled and said, "If you knew, then why did you look for them?"

"Aren't you the smart one," Sarah answered as she joined Isabelle in sorting through the blossoms. "This one is lovely," she said, lifting up a white rose and gazing at it.

"Yes, it will go well with your gown," Isabelle replied, gazing into the mirror and grinning.

Sarah gave her a sidelong glance and finally said, "You seem very chipper today."

"Why shouldn't I be?" Isabelle asked sheepishly. "I have been looking forward to this for some months." Isabelle put her hands on her hips and said, "As a matter of fact, I was wondering why you were going to such an effort to pretend to be happy."

"Can't fool anyone around here, now can I?" Sarah said, smirking at her image as she pinned the flower in her hair.

"Not when you do such a foul job," Isabelle countered, chuckling. The young girl bent over to peek out the window. "What is it they're doing out there, in the square? It looks like Sage and some other elves are pulling the large scrying crystal outside. "

"You'll find out, soon enough, dear Isabelle," Sarah replied with a sarcastic grin.

Isabelle looked at her, gave her a sly grin, grabbed her scarf and began to head for the door. She opened it, and, while standing in the doorway, looked back at Sarah. "You think I am the only one who's going to get a surprise today, do you? Well, Your Majesty, the joke's on you."

As she turned around, Sarah exclaimed, "What are you talking about?!"

With a wave of her hand, Isabelle closed the door behind her. Sarah took on an expression of irritation and sighed. "It's Sage, I just know it." With some effort, she returned to her task of grooming. "That's okay, I'll just kick him into the Bog of Eternal Stench if I don't like whatever it is he's up to."

*       *       *

Benedick was standing on the staircase that led from the throne room, outside to the square. Arms crossed and teeth shining, he seemed to be enjoying observing the commotion below. Other felines poured into the city, and he watched as some young kittens snatched a ball of yarn from a nearby booth of the Weavers' Guild. He chuckled good-humoredly as the other creature proceeded to chase the limber kitten about. "Watch the lad, he bites!" Benedick called from his high position. Just as he finished his words, the door opened and Sarah emerged, her white, silk dress reflected brightly in the springtime sun. Her long curls sparkled as her diamond earings. "There is Her Majesty!" Benedick cried happily as he took her hand and kissed it. "Why, I wondered if you would take all day long to dress!"

"No, I am finally done," Sarah replied, smiling in spite of herself. "Has Hoggle yet arrived with his parents?"

"'Fraid not, the Hiddleburys are not yet here. I expect them to be here before the turning of the hour, though." The tall feline led her down the staircase and onto the cobblestone streets.

"You are being quite the gentleman today," Sarah commented, smiling. "You aren't afraid of causing a scandal, I see. It is quite odd for the king and queen of two different kingdoms to go prancing about the street, hand-in-hand, without an entourage behind them."

Benedick's grin grew in size. "As a matter of fact, with all due respect, Your Majesty, I am trying to cause a scandal."

"And why is that, my fine feline?" Sarah asked, narrowing her eyes mirthfully.

"Sage may try to woo you, but it is I who have the better qualities for a queen as yourself. He has been foolish not to cause a scandal, himself. Now your minions will see us together and swoon, 'Oh, what a marvelous match!' and they will immediately demand that we be wed." He emphasized the wishes of the kingdom by putting his hand to his brow in a dramatic fashion.

"And, by winning my hand, you will have finally beaten Sage, am I correct?" Sarah asked with a chuckle.

"Aye, you are quite the woman! Sharp as the sharpest blade! I do believe we shall be wed, after all!"

Sarah broke out into a fit of laughter. "I daresay, you and Sage will have me dead of laughter before you even get the opportunity to propose to me."

Benedick's laugh trailed off as he looked about in expectation. Finally, he seemed to find what he was looking for. He patted his slightly-fingered paw atop Sarah's hand and said, "Be it far from me to be the bringer of solemn issues, but Sage has given me the task."

Sarah looked away from analyzing the surroundings and moved now-troubled gaze to the cat. "What is it, Benedick?"

He knitted his brow and gritted his teeth, almost dramatically. "Sage has asked you to let him resign."

Sarah's eyes lit up with surprise. "What!?"

"Yes," Benedick said, shaking his head mournfully. "He has decided to become a lonely ascetic. Last night the old fool left some Randwine berries on my doorknob, implying that such a king as myself would reduce my self to drunkenness... The chap felt quite terrible for playing tricks on me, so he thought he would take on a life of termoil and solitude so that-- why are you laughing? I am completely serious!"

Sarah let go of his arm in her mirth. "Oh, you devil! Now really, that was way over the top!" She regained control of herself and finally said, her lips pursing, "Now, really, was there something you needed to tell me?"

"Ah, well, yes, I just thought I might give you a laugh, first."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

There was a pause. Sarah motioned for him to continue.

Benedick bit his lip thoughtfully. "What was I saying?"

"Oh, do get on with it!" Sarah said, sitting down at a nearby bench. Benedick sat down beide her.

"Very well, then." He looked her in the eye. "In all seriousness, now, we --that is, me and Sage...that is, Sage and I -- were both concerned about last night. You know, when you left. Well, the gentleman has been concerned about you, as well, and wonders if you will still be so gracious as to give a peek to his work. Of course, if you're uncomfortable with the prospect, I'll tell him--"

Sarah smiled graciously at him. "No, no, I promised him I would come. Besides, my worries of last evening may not have passed completely, but I do think they were a bit presumptious. I would love to see his work."

Benedick slapped his knees energetically. "Very well, then, it's settled. That wasn't so bad after all!" He stood up and held out his hand to assist the queen in rising.

"You don't like confrontations, do you?" Sarah inquired as she straightened out her dress.

Benedick looped his arm through hers. "Well, in all honesty, I don't like pushing a woman about any issue in which she is troubled. Men are different."

Sarah grinned at him mischieveously. "In my world, your differing treatment of women and men is called sexism. You would be a chauvenist pig."

Benedick looked confused. "Sex what? I would be called a pig? Is that suppoed to be an insult?"

"Yes," Sarah answered, chuckling at his ignorance.

"Well, I'll have you know, some of my very best friends were pigs."

"Really?" Sarah asked, wondering if he was joking. In the Underground, nothing would surprise her.

"Yes!" he replied incredulously. "Did you think I was joking?"

"I am so sorry," she answered sincerely. "I hope I didn't insult you."

He grinned suddenly. "Oh no, not at all. I was just referring to Sage!"

Benedick jumped suddenly. Sage shoved him aside in his shock and slipped his arm through Sarah's. He looked up at Sarah with a playful grin on his lips. "He is one to talk, the snarzled old fool... I am sure, my dear, that you have never seen two old men behave so badly."

"You should have met my grandparents. You are nothing compared to them. Or my real mother..." Sarah chuckled, her eyes hazing over with thought. "Those were great times."

"Perhaps you shall go home again sometime soon. Benedick was telling me of Toby."

Benedick slipped his arm about on Sarah's other side. "Yes, you would surely need to take care of that problem, and you could visit your Mum and Pap."

"Perhaps --

"Well, this lovely lady has quite'n escort!" an Irish man exclaimed from his booth. Sarah was sure this is where the two men were leading her, for easels had been set up with covered canvases sitting atop them. Giving the vocal man a once-over, she saw the red, curly hair and beard characteristic of Irish men, and the playful smile she always envisioned as being necessary, as well. She unentwined her arms from her companions, and approached the man.

"Are you in charge of this booth?" Sarah asked cordially.

"Why, no, Your Majesty, my friend is the owner and manger, so to speak... He's up to something-or-other, at the moment, but he told me to be expectin' yer pretty face. He told me to show you whatever it is you'd like to see, or to tell you whatever it is you'd like to know."

With a languid gaze, Sarah approached one of the paintings and lifted its linen cover. "He did, now, did he?" she replied absentmindedly as she looked at the painting. Benedick and Sage watched her from afar, exchanging curious glances amongst themselves.

The painting was very expressionistic, with dark greens, blues, and browns. Its dried-oil paint surface shimmered slightly in the light, and made the subject matter somewhat difficult to discern. Sarah turned her head to the side to move the glare from her vision, and could just barely tell what it was, not due to a residual glare, but to the hazy nature of the image. It was a deep, dark forest. A young girl wearing white seemed lost in the foliage, but it was impossible to tell what she looked like, for her back was to the viewer. The only distinguishing feature that could be seen was a wisp of brown hair. Sarah was immediately struck by the painting's ethereal beauty, and was further engaged in curiosity over the man's origin.

She moved to another painting, and said, as if she were lost in a trance, "What is your name, good sir?"

"Why, 'tis Granen. Granen McNeil, if it pleases Your Majesty."

"Does your friend have a name?" she asked, gazing into yet another canvas; the same woman was in it, her back turned to the audience as in the last painting.

"Why, what a strange question!" he exclaimed. "I suppose that your curiosity has something to do with his tomfoolery. Yes, Your Majesty, his name is Pandor."

"Where do you sirs come from?" she asked, finally looking up to face him. "A land nearby?"

"Nay, I'm afraid, Your Highness, that places in these parts be too noisy for us. We just live in a serene stretch of land to the west of the elvin kingdom."

"Do you? You are farmers, then?"

"We make do for ourselves, ma'am, but I wouldn't say that we produce a bumper crop. We own one horse and a cow -- As if I have a clue as to why he doesn't just buy another horse, but he says he can walk everywhere... If you haven't decided this already for yourself, Your Majesty, my companion's quite a unique fellow."

Sarah moved to stand before him and looked him in the eye. "He certainly is. His paintings are marvelous, but all have a similar subject matter. Do you have a painting to recommend to me to see?"

"Why, yes. There is one in particular he wished me to show you. He told me to tell you first that he acquired the source of the picture from a local gazette. The picture he used was in black ink... He did a marvelous job of reproducing it, I think."

"Well, I shall be happy to see it," Sarah answered with a genteel smile.

Granen pulled a covered canvas from beneath the table. "This one's not for sale," he commented in explanation to the location of the piece. "It's really quite beautiful, Your Majesty. His best work. He didn't show it to me until yesterday."

Sarah reached out her hand to lift the linen cloth. "May I?"

"By all means."

She pulled back the cover and sucked in a breath. She was face-to-face with herself, but in a way she never had been before. A crown of flowers adorned her head and she sat atop a fallen tree. Nearby, a waterfall splashed while ephermerous little fairies danced about her figure. Suddenly, she was reminded of her daydreamings as a child; this picture is exactly what she had expected a place like the Underground to be. Full of beauty and strange, mythical creatures. Nature at her highest. Woman at her best. Simple happiness.

"I have never seen him undertake such a complex piece of work, Your Majesty. You would think, by the accuracy of the picture, that he had met you before. Of course, he is quite talented and is able to visualize his subjects easily. He has quite taken to you, I believe, though you didn't here it from my mouth."

Sarah touched the surface with the tips of her fingers. "It would seem he has..."

Sage gave Benedick a knowing look and smiled.

Finally, Sarah looked up from her reverie and said, in a very businesslike fashion, unrevealing of any emotion, "Well, thank you, Mr. McNeil, for taking the time to show me his pieces. Tell Mr. Pandor that, if he should like, I would wish him to be my court painter."

Granen seemed taken aback. "Why, yes, Your Majesty. I am sure he will accept."

"Thank you. I hope you have good sales."

"Again, I thank you for your kindness."

Sarah began to walk away, then turned around suddenly. "Is this painting truly not for sale?" Sarah inquired, almost as an afterthought.

"Why, no Your Highness, it is not... Pandor would not dream of making you purchase it. As a matter of fact, he asked me to give it to you if you should inquire as to its cost."

This time, it was Sarah who looked shocked. "Why, I am speechless. Are you sure that I should give him no payment?"

"No, Youir Majesty," he answered, covering it again. "If your companions would be so kind, I will give it to them to carry into the castle, right this minute."

"Well, then, tell him how very much I appreciate this gift. Also tell him to come to me this evening in regards to his job offering. I should enjoy speaking to him again."

As he handed the painting over to Sage and Benedick, the man declared, "Knowing him, you won't have to wait too long. I am sure you will see him sooner than this evening."

"Really? When do you think?"

"I am not sure, to be honest. No telling what tomfoolery he's up to right now."

*       *       *

A great crowd drew about a group of large, horse-sized birds that had landed in a smaller square in the city. These birds were the Spangores, a group of fast-flying beasts that lived atop the peaks of the nearby Shadow Mountains. They were the Air Force of the Underground; sometimes they were called to transport people great distances, as they had this day. Once they were firmly settled and the crowd backed away, Hoggle dismounted his bird and went to assist his parents.

"I still don't see why we didn't just use a buggy 'n just leave a little earlier... My joints are killing me with that cold wind!" Mr. Hiddlebury complained as he stepped to the ground and accepted the cane that Hoggle proffered him.

Hoggle scrunched up his brow and remained silent, merely moving to the other side of the bird to help his mother down. "Thank you, Hoggle Jr. You have been quite the gentleman today."

Hoggle smiled slightly. "Thanks Mama."

Mrs. Hiddlebury walked brusquely over to Hoggle Sr. in order to assist him in his walking. "You cranky old man, the wind wasn't cold at all. You leave our son alone. I thought it was quite an exciting ride. He's done more than enough to lessen the inconvenience of this journey. If we had gone in a buggy, you still would be complainin' about the bumpy ride. 'Oh, my joints!' you'd say. So--"

"Oh, do be quiet, woman! You're hurtin' my ears with your shriekin'." He shook her arm off and continued the walk on his own.

Mrs. Hiddlebury stayed back, crossing her arms. Hoggle came beside her. "I tell you what, son-- He's gotten crankier and more antisocial than usual, if it's possible. Lost whatever bit'a grace he had. I wish he wouldn't be so ornery. I try ta be patient with'im, but--"

Hoggle put a reassuring hand on his mother's shoulder. "Dontcha worry about it, Mama. You're doin' the best you can."

Mr. Hiddlebury wasn't too far ahead of them, and he suddenly lost his balance and began to stumble. Hoggle rushed over to his side. "You okay, Papa?"

The old man worked to catch his breath. "Just -- just lost my balance a moment. It's nothing to worry about, you can let me go."

Hoggle could cleary see that he was in more pain than he admitted. It was likely that he hadn't been just spouting nonsense about his aching joints, and that it was true that his joints hurt no matter the situation. "Papa, I've read about this, you know, your getting-older-pains, and I think we might be able t'buy you some ointment at the apothecary that'll make it hurt less."

"I don't need no ointment! It ain't that bad!" he shouted suddenly, crumpling up again with the effort required to shout.

Mrs. Hiddlebury stood a few steps back, a tear trickling out of her eye.

Mr. Hiddlebury resisted Hoggle's efforts to help, but Hoggle finally took a firm, commanding grasp on the old man's arm. "I won't hear of it," Hoggle said with a sudden forcefulness. "That's just the Hiddlebury stubborness speakin'... I ain't goin' to sit by while you're ignorin' a curable pain. We're goin' to the apothecary this instant. And then we're goin'ta sit down at the chairs in the square and you're goin'ta rest, and I'm gonna be a damned fool and run back and forth bringin' you drinks and food, and I'm gonna get you so drunk that I won't have to hear you complain anymore, you got that?"

Mr. Hiddlebury merely grunted, but did not put up anymore resistance. Mrs. Hiddlebury wiped the tear from her face and smiled in spite of herself.

As if I can guess why I love you so much, you old fool, you, Hoggle thought to himself sadly. You keep this up and you're gonna die sooner than you have to. I know you're scared, Papa. I'm scared for ya, too. But we'll get through this. I'll make you enjoy your last days, if I have to die tryin'.

*       *       *

Sarah was sitting in her throne only an hour before noon, looking over the festivities outdoors. She had explored all of the booths, shook many hands, and even been given the opportunity to see Hoggle's parents. It was now the time for a brief rest; a glass of red wine dangled in her left hand, her chin sitting thoughtfully in her right. After her conversation with Sage from the evening before, she had found herself freely thinking about things she had avoided for the past couple of years. She was no longer sure whether or not she loved Jareth. Even at the somewhat more responsible age of twenty, there was quite a bit of infatuation involved with her judgement of the man and his charms. Something had always told her that there was more beneath the surface, something special and sweet that could add an element of happiness to her life, but he had rarely shown it, and, once it seemed things would be perfect, he disappeared from her life. Four years of his absence had made her think that she was wrong about him.

So, if he was not the man she hoped, then why should she constrain her love to a suffering and hopeless one? The wooing jokes of Sage and Benedick had brought new thoughts to her restless mind and new feelings to her restless heart. Certainly she was appealing to other men? Surely there were other men out there with charms and steadfast love to boot? This Pandor seemed to be a promising beginning for her new "dating" life. She knew she was attractive and intelligent, but she had always latched onto men who made her suffer in order for them to reveal their feelings or affections toward her. Jareth had made her to suffer for five years.

No. She had chosen to suffer. It was her own stubbornness and unwillingness to get on with life that had made her miserable beneath the surface. But, it didn't have to stay that way. Things could change. She could begin things anew, realizing the powerful self that she possessed, could move onto a new, self-appreciating life that made her choose only the man who would worship her equally as she worshiped him.

Someone who would bring her flowers instead of games. Love instead of pain. A maze with a hope of a solution.

"Your majesty?"

Sarah looked up, startled, to see Sir Didymus standing before her. "Yes, Didymus?"

"There is someone here to see you. A king. He is Kaleb of the Summit of the East."

Sarah sat up in her throne, suddenly very engrossed. "Really? I have never heard of that kingdom, let alone that king. When did he come?"

"Only moments ago. He has a fairly large entourage. If you'd like, I'll be glad to drive him out..."

"No, that won't be necessary, Didyums. How does he look?"

"He is a tall and strong-looking gentleman. He has black hair and looks like he could bite someone. I would be cautious, your majesty. I dost not like the smell of him."

Sarah smiled inwardly as she thought of Didymus' unreliable sense of smell. However, she would be careful. "Please, lead him in, but let his people stay at the gates. I don't want to make a full welcome until I am sure it is safe." Didymus stood erect, saluted, then went off to do his duty. Sarah turned to a servant at her right and said, "Please, send for Sage. Tell him to be quick." The girl curtsied and went to retrieve the queen's advisor.

Sarah leaned back in her chair, once again thoughtful, but suddenly worried. She truly hoped that this man did not bring a threat to her kingdom. Neither did she like the smell of this man. Of course, it couldn't be Jareth -- there, she was doing it again -- but she was wary of anything new, especially a new kingdom appearing beneath her nose without her knowledge. She had sent queries out to the kingdoms once a year, and had done so recently in order to make preparations for the meetings of the kingdoms. She was always delighted to add allies to the league, and kept track of the goings-on about the land. This man's appearance was very suspicious.

"Is there something wrong?" Sage asked as he walked up the steps to the throne, his brow wrinkled with worry.

"I don't know, yet. Didymus just announced the presence of a new king and kingdom to me. The king is outside the gates with his entourage, and he has requested to see me."

"What did you tell Didymus to do?"

"I told him to send the king in. I suppose I should give him audience. I am not usually likely to take head to Didymus' warnings about certain issues, but he has said that he is disturbed by the appearance of this man."

"Perhaps he is no true king? You have scoured the land for kingdoms, and if you didn't find him, then it couldn't be possible for a kingdom to pop up out of nowhere, could there?"

She looked at him, biting her lip in thought. After a moment, she looked at him intensely, and replied, "Maybe. The more I think about this, the less I like it."

"I feel the same," Sage said, placing his hand on her shoulder. "However, we should not let our concerns ruin the festivities for today. It is unlikely that we will have a full-scale battle this evening, so think, but do not act, yet. We will see this king before we make any final judgements."

Sarah looked up and saw Didymus and the king approaching from a distance. She sat up, looking as stately and merry as possible. "Speak of the Devil," she mumbled from the side of her mouth, her teeth pinned together in a wide smile.

"Don't say such things, dear queen, you give me chills."

"It's just a saying."

"I don't like it."

Sarah composed herself. As the man came closer, she could see him better. He was beautiful. Like a black raven. His hair was glistening ebony, and his hair slicked back like feathers. His face was creamy white, with blue eyes glowing beneath two slim eyebrows. His garments were black, adorned with feathers; a glistening amulet contrasted with the darkness of his blouse. Although Didymus described the man as bitter-looking, Sarah could not see any evidence toward such a statement. He smiled flirtatiously, wearing his royalty like a bracelet, a hint of common thoughts crossing his mind as he made eye contact with the queen. His glance made Sarah giddy; she felt like a woman in that stare -- no, more like a woman's body, and the utmost and highest of women's of all. She imagined that she was the subject of Boticelli's painting, Birth of Venus, and that he was analyzing it with respect and an unfettered passion.

He mounted the stairs at Didymus' side, but he did so as if it were he leading Didymus, as opposed to vice versa. Kaleb kneeled before Sarah, took her hand and kissed it, his eyes looking up at her steadily from beneath his slanted eyebrows. His gaze was obvious and obviously meant to be so; Sarah felt oddly thrilled by the pressure he placed upon her hand as he rose. She felt disappointed for him to let her hand out of his grasp.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Highness," he said, the words dripping and searing at the same time.

It was all Sarah could do to greet him with an air of queenliness, but, somehow she knew she was doing it rather well, hoping for all the world that he was impressed by her manner. "Hello, Your Majesty. Welcome to our kingdom. I did try to reach all of the kingdoms in order to make invitations to this event; I am sorry to not have reached you, as well. I apologize for the fact that my messengers missed you --"

He lifted his slender hand up, stopping her in mid-speech. "'Tis no trouble, Your Higness. It is by no fault of yours. It is I who would like to apologize for not making our presence known sooner. As I am sure your fine knight here has told you, we are the people of the Summit in the East; we live in the mountains, as a somewhat recluse people. We heard of your festival through nearby sources, and we decided to take this chance to make our people allies with yours. We would like you to get to know us, and, hopefully, to visit our fine kingdom and my castle..." His eyes sparkled at the mention of his castle, his mouth straight and his eyes piercing. The pause seemed to Sarah to last forever. "After which," he continued, "we would like to become members of your League. I hope this offer does not seem presumptuous; we have heard great things about your kingdom and Your Majesty, and we think we could be a help in your cause."

Sarah looked at Sage, and saw his beaming, convincing smile. After knowing Sage for as long as she had, she knew the smile was fake. He was repeatedly bending his forefinger back and forth behind his back, as he always did when he was troubled. She felt herself suddenly powerful --and selfishly so. Despite Sage's obvious concern, she looked back at Kaleb and replied, "By no means do we see this as a presumptuous act. We would be glad to meet your people and consider accepting you into our League. Your people are welcome in our city."

He took her hand again and kissed it. "I will make sure that you do not regret it."

I am sure I shall, but I have never felt myself care less.

*       *       *

Isabelle stood in the gathering audience that spread out before the queen's throne. She was giddy with excitement, knowing that the secret event that Sarah had planned would soon be revealed. People and creatures alike laughed and joked around her, sang songs, and made merry. The high spirits of the crowd lifted Isabelle another notch; she pushed her way through to find a place at the front. She was soon face to face with the impish Vindar, who almost seemed to have been expecting her, as if they had planned all along to meet in this inconspicuous place within the shifting crowd.

"Hello, Dear Isabelle."

Isabelle looked up at him sheepishly, somewhat ashamed for her strange behavior the night before, somewhat shy about his piercing gaze. For the first time, she admitted to herself how handsome he was. He stood tall above her, took her hand in his, and helped her to the front of the audience. She didn't object. Her consent felt slightly alien to her; to this moment, she had rejected any male contact.

As Vindar led her through the shoving mass of creatures, she thought again of Jareth. His return had softened her heart a bit, she was sure. For so long she had waited for him, and for no one else. With the absence of her "father", she found it difficult to find love for any other man. She still wasn't putting her heart up for grabs, but she could give the tall elf a chance of success. Naturally, she would not make it too easy for him.

He came close to her side, and whispered in her ear, "So, how do you feel about Jareth's homecoming?"

She bent close to reply. "I am very happy. I thought he was dead for some time. Now I feel complete, if that makes any sense. Like I have a mother and a father."

"Who would your mother be?" Vindar asked.

"Why, Sarah, of course."

"That would mean that they should marry, would it not?" he answered, grinning madly, as if he had told her a joke of some sort.

"Naturally," she replied, grinning as well, her crystalline voice tinkling warmly.

He gave her a satisfied smile, then looked to the stage as Sarah climbed the steps to stand before her throne. "Welcome, all, to our fourth day of independence!" she shouted. The crowd cheered, and finally died down enough for the queen to continue. "I am so very happy to see you all here. This celebration will continue for a fortnight -- yes, the treasury can afford to feed all of you starving people for the next two weeks, as well as wet your thirsty throats." The throng laughed hysterically. "I have promised a surprise... Is Isabelle here? Aha, I see you there in the crowd, you little imp. I daresay, is that Vindar with you? You two seem quite merry, I wonder why?"

Isabelle cleared her throat, gingerly moved from the elf's grasp, her face turning visibly red. Despite her obvious embarrassment, she consented to an honest, if sheepish, grin.

"Well, Isabelle, you don't have to wait any longer. It is time to reveal the center of our festivities." She turned to face two gentlemen who were standing beside a covered object that sat next to her throne. "Please, dear gents, remove the cloth." They did so dexterously, revealing the large scrying crystal beneath it. It reflected three different entrances into the labyrinth. Sarah turned back to the crowd, beaming. "Over the past year, as some of you may well know, we have made renovations on our labyrinth. In order to test out its effectiveness, and to have a little fun, I have allowed Sage to find me three cunning individuals who must try to solve the labyrinth... They will be cloaked so that I may not know their identities, as not to give any one advantage over the others. They have thirteen hours... Each gets to call on me three times to give them a hint at each obstacle they face that seems too difficult for them to solve on their own. We will all watch their progress through this crystal. How does that sound for the first day's entertainment?" The crowd clapped merrily. "Very well, then. Since I seem to have your approval, I will now ask Sage to bring out the contestants."

Sage came forth, climbing the stairs with three cloaked figures behind him. "Here they are, Your Majesty. They are ready for whatever mental torment you can put them through." A chuckle came from the audience.

"I wish you all the best of luck, though one of you shall have more of it than others, I hate to say. Each of you will get a monetary award for your participation, but the winner shall receive something different. If you be a woman, then you shall get to spend a day within my castle, living in my best guest quarters, and receiving all of the pampering your heart could desire. If you be a man, you will get to have dinner with me, and receive a kiss. From me." Ecstatic whistles emitted from the onlooking throng.

"Trust me, she ain't that bad a kisser," Benedick shouted from the audience.

Sarah laughed in spite of herself. "As if you'd know, you frisky cat. You've never had an opportunity to put your paws on this queen."

"Aye, and I admit so, sadly."

"That is why you are in the audience, and not up here with me!" She chuckled, then turned back to the competitors. "Well, I suppose it is time for you to begin your quest. I will send each of you to a different place at which to begin. Again, I wish you luck." Without further ado, Sarah pulled some sparkling powder from a small sack, threw it over the three figures dramatically, to which they responded by disappearing and reappearing within the depths of the scrying orb. "Well, the games have begun! Now all we have to do is eat, drink, dance, play, and cheer on our racing companions. I officially call this festival to order!"