The next morning DG was fast asleep in her bed. Thick, down blankets cushioned her on all sides with fluff and warmth. As she rolled over she groaned happily and curled her toes in and out. With a sigh she began to go back to sleep.

iClick, creeeak,/ithen fast paced steps sounded across the room. They grew louder and then somewhat softer. With a metal on metal noise the room was suddenly filled with the too-bright light of morning. DG quickly shoved her eyes into the crook of her elbow and groaned angrily.

"Rise and shine sleepyhead," Ambrose's voice called out from the doorway.

"You're too happy in the morning, Glitch," DG grunted, slipping back into calling him by his nickname.

She didn't see Ambrose frown as he entered the room and dismissed the servant who'd opened the curtains. "You'll be up and ready to start the day in no time, princess."

"DG!"

"Princess."

"Ugh!" She'd asked him many times to call her DG. It just felt too weird to be called princess when her entire life she'd been a nobody in some little town she figured no one had ever even heard of.

"Get a little breakfast in you and get dressed and I'm sure you'll be as lively as me." He smiled over at her.

Taking her elbow from her face, DG glared at Ambrose, making his smile fade and turn his face away. "Give me a few more hours and I'll be happy to start the day as well," she said after a moment and rolled over, pulling her pillow over her head.

There was a snap and two sets of footsteps. Suddenly her pillow was ripped from her head and the covers pulled from her body. DG gasped and sat upright, looking around for Ambrose. He had gone. With an inward sigh of relief, DG was glad she slept with full pajamas.

"You are to meet up with the advisor in the third ballroom after breakfast," the woman said as she rolled the sheets over her arm and bowed. "I will help you get ready, your highness."

DG threw herself backwards with an angry huff. After a moment of silently cursing her life, she got up and set her shoulders. It was going to be a long day.

After breakfast, DG went to the third ballroom and found Ambrose standing in front of a blackboard full of writing. It gave DG a headache just looking at it.

"Princess!" Ambrose said when he heard her enter.

"Ambrose…" DG warned.

He waved off the warning and motioned for her to sit in the wingback chair that sat before the blackboard. "We start today with politics."

DG groaned as she sat.

"I know it sounds boring but it's something every future ruler needs to know. I'll try and make it as interesting as I can. I'll start," he said as he turned to the blackboard and flipped it over. The other side held a remarkable picture of a girl standing amongst a crowd of tiny people, looking completely confused. "With your ancestor, Dorothy Gale."

iMaybe this won't be so bad after all,/i DG thought and sat forward to listen better.

Ambrose noticed her sudden attentiveness as he turned around to begin his lecture. Clearing his throat he glanced upwards and took a deep breath, clenching his fists at his side.

The yawn felt like it nearly ripped her jaw apart. DG was fighting to stay awake. She knew she shouldn't have stayed up late sketching.

"I think it's time for a break," Ambrose said as he noticed DG's drooping eyelids. "We can resume lessons in two hours. I suggest you go and eat and a nap might do you some good."

"Great!" DG jumped out of the chair, suddenly awake. She was starving and her bed sounded perfect for after lunch.

Somehow she had managed to make it to the private dining room after Ambrose. The man already sat next to her mother, the two talking quietly. Ambrose and the queen looked up at DG as she sat down. Her mother smiled warmly and Ambrose looked quickly away, continuing his conversation.

"I don't want to hear it, Ambrose," DG heard her mother say. She looked up from her food and found Ambrose muttering animatedly. "No, no, and no. You will do what I have asked."

Ambrose said something else, his eyes flicking in DG's direction.

The queen chuckled. "Honestly Ambrose! You surprise me. This is your chance to prove yourself. I know you can do it," she told him merrily. "Don't work yourself up over it. Now eat something and I order you to go and relax after lunch. I don't want to see you pacing the hallways."

With a small snort, DG went back to her food as Ambrose resigned himself to his own plate.

After her nap, DG found a maid waiting outside her door. She stopped short after stepping from her room. She looked at the maid and then up and down the hallway.

"Uh, is there something you need?" DG asked.

"I was sent to wait for you to wake so I can help you dress for your next lesson."

"What?" Looking down at her own pair of pants and shirt she looked back at the woman. "What's wrong with these?"

"Oh those won't do, your highness," she replied as she dipped a curtsey. "You must wear a gown."

"What? No, I don't want to wear a gown," she protested but the woman steered her back into the room and closed the door.

Ambrose stood in the small ballroom, anxiously waiting for DG. He wore an old suit made for parties. It was dark purple with gold threading around the cuffs and collar.

The clock ticked loudly, echoing under the vast ceiling. Ambrose began to pace. "Why did iI/i have to be the one to teach her?" he muttered to himself. "The queen must be testing me." He stopped pacing and stamped his foot. "Sometimes I hate having my whole brain. At least with half a brain I could-"

Just then the doors to the ballroom opened and DG was shoved into the room. She turned back to the doors, arguing with whoever stood on the other side. They closed and she growled as she whirled around, her pale blue dress billowing out around her legs and then gently settling.

"Dancing?" she asked Ambrose as she stalked over, the shoes she wore clacking noisily on the hardwood floor. Stopping in front of a stunned Ambrose, she took a deep breath. "Let's just get it over with. I'm no good at dancing."

This snapped him out of his daze. "Oh, well I'm sure you're just being modest. It's not hard, really." He held up a hand and waited for DG to place one of hers in it. Then he placed his other hand on her waist. DG didn't notice him gulp as she figured out where to put her other hand. "Uh, shoulder," he instructed, his voice cracking. iGet a hold of yourself old pal!/i he silently told himself. iWhen you actually get to dance at a ball you're fine, what's wrong with you now?/i

"Ambrose?" DG asked, trying to bring him out of his reverie.

"Right, sorry. I'll lead and you follow. It's not too hard with a seasoned dancer like I am. I should be able to nudge you in the right direction well enough. Let's begin with a waltz."

He made the first motion but DG hadn't been paying much attention and she stumbled. Ambrose gripped her hand and waist tighter to keep her from falling, in the process pulling her against him as her shoes began to slip.

They stood there for a moment as she regained her balance. Their chests were crushed together, Ambrose's face only a breath away from DG's neck.

DG was the first to push away. "Ok I told you I can't dance," she said quickly, straightening her dress. "Sorry for tripping."

"Oh, uh, no, th-that's perfectly alright. I, uh, guess we start again." Grabbing her hands, he pulled her back to him and got into position. He began explaining the footwork he was about to go through, moving a foot back, to the side, and forward, making sure he showed her all the moves. DG nodded the entire time, intently watching his feet move. Soon he began moving her across the floor, pretending there was a full band playing on the dais meant for them.

When DG tripped again as they were well into the waltz, Ambrose caught her again and she began to laugh. This caused Ambrose to break into a small chuckle of his own. "You really are a bad dancer," he told her as he started where they left off.