In the desolate swamp, the ice unicorn inclined his head towards Princess Teefa. “Now that the throne is empty, will you and Leyla take on the crown?” He hesitated. “Or would you like to take it for yourself?”

A strange thrill reverberated through Teefa’s human frame, and she thought of all the power that would come with the throne. But she clenched her fists, nails biting into her palm. “No, no, I don’t want to rule. Neither does my wife. But Anastasia — my mother’s named heir — will rule, and I will give zir all my support.”

Phaeton was still, and the two of them were silent. Teefa didn’t want to look at her mother, the former Queen Freya, dead and gone at the bottom of the pit. Teefa felt an odd mixture of sadness and shame.

She cleared her throat and brushed a nervous hand through the hair near her neck. “Phaeton, what do you think?”

The unicorn chuckled. “You don’t need my approval, Princess.”

“But do you have any objections? This wasn’t exactly what you and Revi had in mind, is it?” Teefa asked, as uneasiness pooled in her gut.

Phaeton pawed the damp soil in front of him, as if impatient. “Well, if you made your choice, there’s no going back.” There was no sympathy in his tone.

Teefa’s shoulders were tense, though she tried to loosen them. “I know. And I don’t regret it. I’m just afraid.”

The beautiful ice fae tossed his head, his clear blue mane glittering with snow. “Fear won’t stop you. It won’t stop us. It had to be done.” But at least his voice was a little gentler now.

The Princess ran her thin hands through her long, dark hair and breathed deeply, calming herself as much as she could. “Yes. Now let’s go and find the others.” She climbed back onto the ice unicorn.

Phaeton nodded. A window-shaped bubble of water popped in front of Phaeton’s head. It widened and they saw a blurry liquid nothingness. The unicorn leapt into it with a satisfying splash.

***

Ero, the calf shifter, ran towards the light at the end of the tunnel. As he got closer, he realized it was a door.

When Ero tentatively leaned forward to sniff it, he yelped when his snout bumped a cold surface. It felt like metal, yet it looked like light. But he frowned, even as he squinted, for the door was dazzlingly bright.

Just as he puzzled over where the doorknob was located, the door abruptly opened. The calf almost fell over in shock.

A middle-aged woman, dressed in a chef’s apron, stood in the doorway. Her brows were deeply furrowed and her jaw clenched tight. But what surprised Ero most was that she smelt human, fully human.

The two of them stared at each other. Ero was the first to break the silence. “What is this place?”

The human made a face of scorn as Ero surveyed the room she was in. He guessed it was a kitchen, from the stoves and pots all around. She grumbled, but moved away to let him in.

Heedless of any possible danger, Ero sauntered in. The aroma of cow’s milk was gloriously tempting, even though he was long past the age of needing his mother’s milk.

A wave of sadness came over him as he thought about where his mother and father might be. Are they even alive?

He shook off these dark thoughts and kept going. The kitchen seemed like an ordinary kitchen, except it was as large as a palace galley.

There were other cooks here, but aside from the woman who let him in with reluctance, the others didn’t spare Ero a glance.

He strode and strode, and at length, he found himself in front of a huge boiler. The scent of milk was overpowering, and wordlessly, he climbed the stairs to the top.

No one stopped him from marching to his doom.

***

Mildred lay on the bed in her guestroom, staring vapidly at the ceiling.

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What else could she have done? Vera had been so desperately ill, and now she had no idea what to do.

Resentment and despair swirled in her mind.

A rap sounded on her door.

She knew who it would be. “Come in,” she hollered.

The door cracked open and there stood Lance, handsome in his blue clothes. He looked uncharacteristically glum. “Are you all right?”

Mildred rolled her eyes. “What do you think?”

Lance stayed grim and walked to her bedside.

It was strange how she didn’t feel intimidated by him, even though she was vulnerable and prone on the bed. He stood over her, and he could have done anything to her. But she trusted that he wouldn’t.

He pulled up a stool nearby to sit down. He placed his chin on his palm and said, “I’m really sorry for what went down with your daughter. That was totally uncalled for.”

Mildred gritted her teeth. “Yeah,” she grunted. “Vera could have been kinder, but I wasn’t kind to her, either.” She covered her eyes.

Lance was silent for a moment. “Mildred, we don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. She’s alive and well. We could leave.”

Immediately, Mildred removed her arm from her eyes and stared at him like he was insane. “Seriously? Giving up so soon? We didn’t come all the way here just to leave without her!”

Lance rubbed his neck with an uncomfortable posture. “Yes, I get it, and again, I’m sorry. But should you keep tormenting yourself over such an ungrateful daughter? If you didn’t accept your Aunt Ivy’s help, Vera wouldn’t have even existed!”

Mildred the cow shifter breathed deeply in and out, in an effort to calm herself. “That’s true, and…thanks for standing by me.”

Silence stretched between them again. “You’re very welcome,” Lance replied in a low voice. He looked away and asked, “But what about your husband?”

“What about him?” Mildred asked back, irritated.

“I don’t love Clive any more than you do,” Lance said. “But you still have to decide what to do. You’re staying together for the sake of Vera and your other calf. But you don’t have to stay together to raise your children. You could take turns, have shared custody.”

Mildred wanted to scrape her nails on the bed. “I don’t like that idea.”

“Sure, no one likes that. But is what you have now good enough? You’re barely tolerating each other’s existence, which I don’t think is helpful to your children,” Lance said. “Vera doesn’t seem horribly happy with you, even though you’re staying with her father.”

“And she’ll hate me even more if we get a divorce,” the cow shifter insisted.

Lance frowned. “I’m not so certain about that. Divorces and separations are not that unusual. Children can still live well and be happy. Better for the children to not see so much conflict between their parents.”

Mildred stared at the ceiling again, and counted to ten before she said, “Why are you insisting on my divorce? Do you want to be with me instead?”

Lance made a choking noise. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Mildred snorted and rolled around so that her back was turned to him. “Even if you were interested, I don’t think my children would appreciate a dragon shifter stepfather.”

“Why not?” Lance sounded genuinely curious.

The cow shifter rubbed her temples. “Isn’t it obvious? Dragons and bovine don’t mix. If you didn’t know me personally, you might eat me. Heck, you could gobble me up now and I wouldn’t be able to do anything.”

The dragon shifter was quiet for a few beats before he said, “Is that what you keep thinking? That I might eat you? I may be a carnivore, but that doesn’t mean I feast on anyone I see. I definitely wouldn’t feast on you.”

Mildred pushed her lips together in annoyance. “Sure, say what you want. I still don’t think it would be a good idea.”

Lance huffed. “Right.”

The ticking of the wall clock sounded so loud right now. Mildred suddenly had a wild thought. “If I shift into a cow now, would you eat me?”

Lance chortled. “Have you gone mad? I wouldn’t stop you if you wanted to shift. But no, I wouldn’t ever try to eat you.”

Mildred rolled back to face him with a flat smile. “All right, then.”

She took her sweet time doing it, wanting to mock — and tantalize — him. Her woman’s form stretched, rounded, and thickened, until she became a black and white milk cow.

She didn’t even bother standing. She stayed sprawled on the queen-sized bed, her legs dangling and uncaring.

Mildred glanced up at Lance.

Amusement lit up his features. “What a beautiful cow you are.” He reached out and started stroking her ears.

Mildred mooed in protest, but stopped when she realized how good it felt. In fact, it had been a while since anyone had caressed her like that. Years, even.

The two of them stayed there for a long moment, with Lance stroking her ears, cheeks, even her neck and back. Mildred wanted to moo again, though it would be a sound of pleasure.

She didn’t want to give him that satisfaction, though. She stayed quiet and closed her eyes instead.

Lance’s hands still rubbed her thick pelt in a delightful manner. “We should do this more often, Mildred. As wonderful as you are in human form, there’s something extra primal and pleasing to see you in cow form, too.”

She thought that was ridiculous, so she flicked her tail at him.

He dodged, however, with a smile. “I mean it. There’s something much less guarded and relaxed about you in your cow form. And believe it or not, I like doing this to you, giving you some enjoyment and rest.”

Mildred said, “I bet you would love ‘doing this’ to me in my human form, too.”

Lance laughed. “No doubt. But that might be too much for now, unless you want me to play with your hair.”

He was being so nonsensical that Mildred just snorted. What he was doing felt great, though, and she didn’t want him to stop. “Whatever,” she said softly.

Lance and Mildred were so absorbed in this moment of comfort and peace that they were both taken by surprise when the door banged open.

Demiel stood there, his face full of glee and triumph. “What are you two doing? Have you no shame?”

Mildred was about to argue that they weren’t doing anything wrong. But then Demiel stepped aside and revealed the man standing behind him.

It was her husband, Clive.