"No!" Aria cried. She turned away from the mirrored image of her horrified face and kicked the nearest object—a cow's thighbone. It rolled; but the bone was past hurt, and the open toe of Aria's gilt sandal gave her foot no protection.
"No," Aria repeated, but the word was a gasp of pain.
"It is not good to be angry at a hard fate," Chester said.
"How can you say that?" the princess demanded. "Chester, I've only known him for a week, but you've been with him all his life. Wasn't he your friend? Don't you care about him?"
"Do not be heartsore over a matter when its course comes to a halt," the robot said, quoting again—but there was a tone of appraisal in his voice that Dennis would have recognized if he had heard it.
"I..." Aria said.
She started to wring her hands, but will and royal training restrained her. Instead she walked into the sunlight, stepping with measured precision and using the pain jabbing her right foot as a reminder to control herself.
"Chester," she said, facing the bright meadow. "Is there no way that we can get him back?"
Cows watched her, their jaws moving side to side. Their ears snapped audibly as they flicked at insects.
"There is a way you can get him back, Princess," the robot behind her said.
Aria spun onto him, beautiful and imperious. "Then what is it?" she demanded. "What can I do?"
"The sea hag likes pretty things," Chester said softly.
The tip of one tentacle touched or did not quite touch the pendant spinning unsupported between the princess' breasts. "It might be that if you went to the sea beneath Rakastava with all your jewelry... and with your lute to summon the sea hag, for your voice is a pretty thing as well, Princess... It might be that she would come, and—who can say what might happen then...?"