The kitchen door swung shut behind King Harold with a quiet, final click.

For a moment, neither girl moved. Then Felicia exhaled sharply. "We follow."

They slipped from behind the baskets and crossed the kitchen as quickly and quietly as they could. Vanity grabbed one of the wicker baskets while Felicia snatched up a spare serving cloth and threw it over her arm and adjusted her hood. Props. Disguises. Something to justify their presence if they were seen.

They pushed through the door into the corridor just in time to catch the King turning the corner. He walked quickly, but not confidently. There was hesitation in every step.

Felicia noticed it immediately. This wasn't the version of her grandfather she knew from stories: the resigned king, the proud ruler. This was a man being pulled in two directions at once.

They kept their distance, moving in secret bursts—move, pause, hide, move again.

At one turn, they ducked beside a suit of armor as two guards passed. Felicia pretended to polish the armor with her rag while Vanity inspected one of its gauntlets.

What had felt busy before now felt electric. Every hallway carried echoes of music, applause, and cheers, the rising swell of the evening's main event about to begin. And underneath it all, Fairy Godmother was waiting for everything to snap into place.

The King climbed the spiral staircase toward Fiona's tower.

Vanity crouched at the bottom of the stairs. "Careful," she whispered.

Felicia nodded.

They ascended far behind Harold, moving more slowly up the steep stone steps. They kept to the outer wall where shadows stretched long in the torchlight. By the time they reached the top landing, the King had already been inside for several seconds.

The tower door remained slightly ajar.

Felicia and Vanity exchanged a look, then crouched to listen through the crack. They pressed themselves to either side of the doorway, barely breathing.

Inside, Fiona's muffled voice came first. "There's just one problem." A pause followed. "That's not my husband."

The girls exchanged a glance, both trying to decipher what was happening beyond the door.

"I mean, look at him!" Fiona continued, sadness and stress creeping into her voice.

King Harold tried to comfort her. He spoke gently about how people change for the ones they love. About how he himself had changed quite a bit for Queen Lillian. "You might find you like this new Shrek," Harold said.

"But it's the old one I fell in love with, dad."

Silence settled over the room once again.

Then came the soft clatter of porcelain, as someone lifted up a teacup.

All they could hear was Harold say the word "decaf."

Felicia's eyes widened at that single word. That was it!

Felicia sagged against the wall, barely catching herself before she made a sound. Vanity exhaled slowly, something almost like disbelief flickering across her face.

It still happened.

Despite everything, the King's heart had not wavered. He still chose his daughter over all the fear pressing down on him. That was the courageous King that Felicia had been told about.

The moment Harold and Fiona's conversation paused, both girls sprang into motion. They raced silently down the spiral staircase, trying to disappear before Fiona or the King exited the tower themselves. They hurried through the corridor toward the plaza doors leading to the main event.

"It worked," Felicia whispered, unable to stop the small smile forming on her face. She couldn't help but notice that Vanity was smiling too.

Suddenly, a chill swept through the corridor.

Both girls stopped short. Their smiles vanished immediately.

"Well, well." Fairy Godmother drifted into view, her wand glowing faintly in the dim hallway light.

Vanity straightened at once, lowering her gaze.

"Hard at work, I see," Fairy Godmother said lightly, though her eyes were anything but warm. They flicked between the girls with sharp scrutiny.

Felicia forced herself to curtsy. "Y-yes, ma'am. We were just—"

"Listening?" Fairy Godmother finished with a smile.

The word lingered in the air.

Vanity stepped in smoothly. "Ensuring everything went according to plan."

A soft laugh escaped Fairy Godmother. But her attention had already drifted past them now, back toward the empty stairwell they had just descended. Something sharpened behind her expression.

"You see," she continued conversationally, "happy endings don't simply happen." She floated closer, her voice lowering. "They require planning. Precision. A little... guidance. And I'm glad you two are finally beginning to understand that my way is the best way." She slowly began to float away towards the plaza doors.

Felicia felt something twist painfully in her chest.

Guidance.

The word echoed through her mind, and suddenly, pieces she had never fully questioned began snapping into place.

Fiona, cursed as a child and hidden away in a tower. Cursed by a fairy, no less, and yet somehow no one questioned it. The fairy had come in the night and vanished without a trace. The King and Queen sought advice from a supposed different fairy, Fairy Godmother herself, who suggested locking Fiona away until "true love's kiss" could save her. Without any other options, they obeyed.

Felicia's stomach dropped.

Her voice escaped before she could stop it. "It was you." She stared at Fairy Godmother with complete loathing.

Vanity's head snapped toward her in confusion.

Fairy Godmother went very still.

Felicia swallowed hard. "You cursed her," she said quietly. "You told the King to lock her away and made sure people talked about the missing princess so someone would eventually come rescue her." Her pulse thundered in her ears. "The Magic Mirror couldn't have told Lord Farquaad about Fiona unless rumors about her already existed. Somebody spread them."

Fairy Godmother turned back around as her smile widened.

"Very good," she said softly. "Lord Farquaad was an unfortunate complication, of course. And the ogre..." Her lip curled slightly. "An even bigger one. But no matter. Tonight will correct all of that."

Vanity's breath caught. Her jaw slowly fell open in disbelief. Her grandmother truly was the villain.

Felicia felt sick. "You needed a princess," she continued, anger building in her voice. "A story. A perfect fairy tale. A cursed maiden trapped in a tower. A heroic rescue. A new ruler of Far Far Away. Something to build Charming's future around so you could control everything behind the scenes. Something that would destroy Harold and his Kingdom."

"I'm surprised no one else ever figured it out," Fairy Godmother mused. "You're remarkably perceptive for an ogre."

There was no denial.

No hesitation.

Only confirmation.

Felicia's face burned red with fury. "Harold was the Frog Prince. You gave him a human form if he found true love's kiss." Her voice sharpened. "And when he couldn't, wouldn't, repay you, you cursed his daughter?"

Fairy Godmother's expression finally cracked. Not with guilt, but with rage.

"I do not create destiny," she snapped, her voice suddenly echoing violently through the corridor. "I am destiny!"

The chandeliers overhead rattled. The glow from her wand intensified.

"For years," she continued, eyes blazing, "I cleaned up this world's messes. I turned frogs into kings, nobodies into royalty, disasters into fairy tales! I gave everyone else their happily ever after." She laughed bitterly. "And what do I ask in return? One simple arrangement. One perfect ending for myself. Have you ever considered that I, too, deserve a happily ever after? And the king did not keep his promise."

She drifted closer, towering over the girls now.

"Harold begged me for help with his human love. Quite pathetic, really. He promised me anything in return out of desperation." Her smile twisted. "And then, after everything I gave him, he decided my son wasn't good enough for his precious firstborn daughter. He refused me. He knew the consequences."

Felicia clenched her fists. "So you punished a child?" she demanded.

Fairy Godmother's expression darkened. "I punished her father. If only you could see how miserable I made him." Her eyes gleamed. "I gave Fiona purpose."

The words hit harder than a slap.

Vanity physically recoiled.

"You locked her in a tower for thirty years!" Felicia shouted.

"And look what happened when she was freed too early!" Fairy Godmother shouted back. "An ogre is becoming king! All because of Harold's stubbornness, every carefully laid plan has collapsed into chaos!"

Her wand sparked violently now, bright enough that both girls instinctively stepped back.

"And when people refuse to follow the arrangement," she said coldly, smoothing herself almost instantly, "things tend to unravel."

Vanity stepped forward carefully before Felicia could say something worse.

"Everything is proceeding as expected," Vanity said cautiously. "The King, he—"

"Has done his part," Fairy Godmother interrupted smoothly. "Of course he has. That anxious, ungrateful little toad."

The girls realized that she didn't know. She thought the king had given in.

From the plaza doors came the distant swell of music as they burst open. A frazzled elf in the same familiar purple uniform came sprinting up the hallway toward them.

Out of breath, hands on his knees, he wheezed, "Fairy Godmoza! You are needed on za stage!"

Fairy Godmother sighed dramatically. "Well then, it seems I'm expected elsewhere."

She turned, floating gracefully towards the plaza once more. "No one will believe you if you tell them what you know. At least, no one in this timeline." She smiled over her shoulder. "But do try to keep up, girls. The best part of the evening is about to begin."

Then she disappeared down the corridor with the accompanist scrambling after her.

The silence she left behind felt heavier than her actual presence.

Neither girl moved. Their minds raced, piecing everything together in ways they never had before.

"This wasn't just about Charming," Vanity whispered.

Felicia looked at her slowly. "It was never about Charming." She shook her head. "It was about control. The entire story. Every single piece of it."

Vanity stared down the corridor where Fairy Godmother had vanished. Then, with a frustrated grunt, she hurled the basket she was still carrying against the wall, causing splinters to fall across the floor.

Felicia stepped forward carefully and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Vanity closed her eyes for a moment before straightening again. "You were right."

Felicia let that sink in. Now was definitely not the time for an "I told you so."

"We stick to the plan," Vanity said firmly.

Felicia nodded. They had to. Because now, more than ever, doing nothing meant everything.

Then came the distant sounds of shouting somewhere outside the castle walls.