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She had been standing with the blondes, her own luxuriant hair spilling in cascades down her back. “No one ever cuts their hair in the Kingdom of Marlont,” someone whispered.
    “Yes, to have short hair is considered uncivilized.”
    “Loutish.”
    “It’s like going naked in public.”
    “Pay attention! Pay attention. The footmen will remove her,” the duchess said, stepping over the fallen princess. Princess Beba was gone less than ten minutes while the duchess explained the intricacies of blending the various shades of hair.
    When the princess came back into the Salon de Beauté, she walked unsteadily.
    “She’s transparent!” Alicia said in a hushed voice.
    “Well, it was such a shock,” someone else said.
    “Dead, she looks totally dead,” Kristen said.
    “Totally!” Myrella echoed.
    “Gorgeous!” the Snort exclaimed, and rushed to Princess Beba. “Simply gorgeous. Now, Miladies, this is just the pallor we try to attain with our powders and clay. It is the classic swoon pallor—white with a hint of ash!” Princess Beba swayed a bit, and her eyes opened wide. Was she going to faint again? There was a sudden gagging noise, and then from the princess’s mouth something jetted out in a great gush.
    “Holy monk bones!” Alicia exclaimed.
    “She spewed!” said Princess Kinna.
    “She threw up!” said Myrella.
    “She barfed,” said Kristen.
    “ Gutsfop ,” said the princess from the far north.
    The duchess’s face was not the classic pallor, but was covered in an olive green slime. A look of sheer terror filled her eyes. She gave a little yelp and then collapsed on the floor.
    Kristen stepped over the limp body and snapped her fingers. “Footman! Will you kindly remove the Duchess of Bagglesnort.”
    “Princess Beba, by the wits of Saint Janny! Your color has returned,” Alicia exclaimed.
    “Saint Janny? Who’s she?” Princess Beba asked.
    “It’s not a she. It’s a he. Saint Januarius, patron saint of blood. You see, Princess Beba….” Alicia began to speak. She was known for her fascination with saints, particularly the gory details of their deaths and martyrdoms. “His blood was preserved and dried, and on his feast day it is said that the dried blood liquefies.”
    “You don’t say!” Princess Beba replied. She seemed suddenly quite perky. The other princesses pressed closer now to hear every gruesome little detail.
    “Have you ever seen the dried blood liquefy, Princess Alicia?” Beba asked.
    “I have!” a voice from the rear of the Salon de Beauté spoke up.
    “Wouldn’t you know it!” whispered Myrella.
    It was Princess Morwenna, that unsettling and obnoxious mix of piety and spite. She made her way up to the front of the salon. Placing her hand lightly on her chest as if counting the beats of her reverent heart, she arranged her face into a most mournful expression. “One has to possess an extreme spirituality in order to witness the holy liquification.”
    “Spirituality, my butt!” Kristen growled.
    “The prayer that I always say as I stand before the relic blood on the feast day is—”
    Myrella gave a very large yawn for someone so small. “Speaking of feasts, I’m hungry. Let’s get out of here before the Snort recovers.”
    “Yeah, let’s go to the Princess Parlor for morning tea,” Princess Kinna said. All the princesses rushed out of the Salon de Beauté, leaving Morwenna with her hands clasped in prayer reciting a psalm about blood and vengeance and bad people who “drinketh blood.”

Chapter 5
    BERWYNNA THE IMPOSSIBLE

    Meanwhile, Princess Gundersnap made her way into the Forest of Chimes. She was sweating mightily, for spring had come suddenly and snowshoes were of absolutely no use, not to mention her fur-lined cloak, earmuffs, and mittens. The warm weather would present problems on her return, for the moat would have thawed, and if she did not get back until evening, the bridge would be up and she would have to swim. She had already passed