The Marshal had been in the middle of shouting orders to his incompetent lackeys, struggling to be heard over the howls and the screeching, when the guards' eyes went wide and distant, and the spirits and the noise were sucked away into a sudden and jarring silence. It was in that terrible silence, his heart beating in his ears, that August Derrick knew the Queen was standing just behind him.

He spun around, and he bowed low, rigid in every muscle. "The Princess had escaped through the mirror, Your Majesty," he responded like crisp clockwork. "We have successfully returned her to the realm. She is in the wood outside. She will be retrieved to your custody and your dungeon within the hour, as is your will." Everything was going exactly according to plan. He simply wasn't quite sure what that plan was yet. He only had to convince the Queen of the former, and to keep his cool.

Dorothea paused in the fallen leaves, her tail high and flicking impatiently. "That doorway will be closed by now," she called out in answer to an unasked question. "I'm sorry, but you're a bit stuck at the moment. You're also in great danger if those men catch you, so try to keep up." She hopped daintily over leaves and bramble, and she was still unused to how gigantic the world looked from her new perspective. It seemed to her that it would take weeks to travel all the way to the castle with her small legs. She hopped onto a fallen log and paused to survey the quiet, cold woods. Nothing stirred; it all was bleak and bare, nothing but rocks and trees as far as she could see. Every little stone seemed an impassable obstacle in the way of returning her to her proper form and status.

She turned around, coiled her legs, and leaped onto the girl's shoulder again. "That's better," she purred, satisfied to at least be able to see at a proper height, and she settled comfortably for the ride. "We need to go to the castle. It's only a few miles' walk that way," she pointed with a soft paw. "There we can see about getting you home. But quickly!"