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and self-assured she had been on the day when the townspeople presented her to him. He had not been able to stop wondering about her since then. He felt that he should not allow her to accept the challenge. He must dissuade her somehow. The possibility of her losing her life was not worth the risk. The likelihood that she would solve the riddle was impossible. Other wizards and learned men had tried and failed. And yet, all the while, he was as intrigued as everyone else to know how this Harmonia Brist—this wizardess—planned to resolve the mystery.

      So the king delayed the awaited moment longer and longer while he debated what he should do. At last the hour grew quite late, and the wizardess approached him.

      “A word, Your Highness,” she said, addressing him as if she were the one who was royalty. The room was packed to overflowing and yet you could have heard a pin drop at that moment.

      “By all means,” he replied, astounded by her boldness.

      “I am impatient to discuss the riddle,” she told him matter-of-factly. “Is that not why we have all gathered here?” There was a collective intake of breaths, including the king’s, and the princesses looked at each other apprehensively.

      “I will be as forthright with you as you have been with me,” said the king, liking her more and more. “I have begun to lose my appetite for the answer to this riddle in my grief over putting so many to death. It does not bode well for me to knowingly send another, especially a woman, to her grave.”

      “So you have withdrawn the decree regarding the riddle?”

      “Well,” admitted the king, “I have not officially…”

      “Have you refused other contenders who have come forward?” she continued, interrupting him and questioning him in the same tone one would use with witness in a trial. His blood was becoming heated by her audacity.

      “No,” he replied, intentionally neglecting to inform her that he would have done so if it had been necessary, but no one had come forward to accept the challenge as of late. He had assumed that everyone else, like him, had given up ever discovering the truth about the shoes. But he did not like her tone and refused to explain himself to someone who was not even a constituent of his, and who had no better sense than to speak to him in such a way. Harmonia went on, seemingly unaware of his darkened mood.

      “Aha,” she exclaimed. “So this kingdom, too, is afraid to accept a challenge from a woman!” The silent room suddenly came alive with a buzz of voices, low, hushed and excited. Harmonia was too upset to notice. How was she to succeed in the world if she was never given an equal opportunity?

      The king, as it happened, had always considered himself a great advocate of women. He had altered many laws to support women, at the advice of his beloved daughters. He had even, over the years, heard traces of whispers that perhaps he had gone too far on this score, causing an inequity for men. It did not bode well for him to be accused of discrimination against women.

      The king stood up in order to look down at the wizardess, and regain his sense of authority. “Harmonia Brist,” he thundered, “I will accept your challenge but it will be on my terms, not yours.” There was silence in the great hall now as the king continued, somewhat grudgingly. “Your bravery is to be commended but I will not be coerced into agreeing to conditions which I now find objectionable. Past wrongs do not make a right.” He took his time, deliberating as he spoke. He felt correct in withdrawing his original decree, with its cruel and unusual penalty for failure. However, in removing the high penalty he could not very well continue to offer half his kingdom; it would not be fair to those who had preceded her. He concluded, therefore, “If you still wish to solve the riddle, you may do so with impunity and, if you succeed where others have failed you may have any single thing from my kingdom that you desire.”

      Now it was Harmonia who was surprised. She stared at the king, momentarily speechless.

      “Well?” prompted the king. “Keep us waiting no longer. What happens to my daughters’ shoes during the night that causes them to become so worn by morning?”

      The wizardess recovered from her shock quickly, excited now by this new opportunity. She stood perfectly straight, looking the king directly in the eye as she accepted the challenge. She spoke out in a loud, clear voice. “The shoes are merely a symptom of the princesses’ discontent,” she explained. “They are nostalgic and adjusting poorly to their married lives. It is by the sheer powers of their innermost secret desires that they come together each and every evening to dance their cares away, right here in this very castle, just as they used to do when they were children.”

      There was silence. One did not know whether it was the simplicity of the idea that offended or the notion of the princesses’ “discontent.” Either way, it was clear that the king was not only disappointed, but annoyed. However, his voice remained calm.

      “I suppose that is a clever reply,” he said evenly, “since you begin by flattering me that my daughters miss living here with me. Oh, that I could have them here forever but it is better that they should leave me to marry. Yet you insult me sorely to imply that my daughters return here without my knowledge or that we have not already thought to monitor their nightly activities and established that they have not left their beds during the night!”

      The wizardess was unperturbed by the king’s demeanor and, in fact, smiled. “You will not see your daughters when they come here together in secret, because they enter through the doorway of their most secret wishes and remain through the power of their longing,” she explained. “For some reason, these cerebral activities are being made manifest only through their shoes.”

      “You are not such a foolish wizardess after all,” remarked the king. “You find an explanation that cannot be proven or disproved.”

      “It is proven by the worn slippers,” replied the wizardess.

      “You have given an unsatisfactory explanation that cannot be proven!” bellowed the king.

      “Father!” exclaimed the youngest princess at that moment. All eyes turned to her.

      “It is true!” she murmured. “I have dreamed it!”

      Suddenly the room buzzed with lowered voices. The young princess turned to her sisters, who seemed very confused indeed, wearing expressions of their struggle to recollect memories that were just out of reach.

      “I apologize if my explanation did not satisfy,” continued the wizardess, raising her voice above the noise in the room. “But I assure you that the cure will be more to your liking.”

      The room became silent again.

      “The cure?” asked the king. “Do you mean to say you can stop my daughters’ shoes from being worn through during the night?”

      “Of course,” said the wizardess. “Would I have ventured forth if I could not?”

      “If you can accomplish this, you will indeed have solved the riddle,” promised the king. “So what is the cure?”

      “It is different for each of the princesses. I must prescribe them individually. Within one week of following my recommendations, their shoes will cease being worn down during the night.”

      “So it shall be!” bellowed the king. “You have one week.”

      A cheer rang up in the room, for no attempt had been received so well thus far. The remainder of the night was filled with jolly celebration as hope sprung anew; until the next morning, when somber reality returned in the shape of twelve pairs of shoes worn clear through.

      PRINCESS ATTENTIA

      PRINCESS ATTENTIA WOKE UP THE MORNING AFTER THE GREAT FEAST FILLED with excitement. She was the only one of her sisters who had fully recognized the validity of the wizardess’s claims. She knew it was true; for she could recall in vivid detail the dreams where she and her sisters gathered together in their father’s castle each night, dancing away the hours. She also knew that she was not nearly as happy now as she

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