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'I'm sure they think that sooner or later I'll marry anyone to get away from laundry,' said Ella. 'Not mat the Prince's clothes get washed, I expect,' she added bitterly. 'I expect they get burned after he's worn them.'
' What you want to do is make a career of your own,' said Magrat encouragingly, to keep her spirits up. 'You want to be your own woman. You want to emancipate yourself.'
'I don't think I want to do that,' said Ella, speaking with caution in case it was a sin to offend a fairy godmother.
'You do really,' said Magrat.
'Do I?'
'Yes.'
'Oh.'
'You don't have to marry anyone you don't want to.'
Ella sat back.
'How good are you?' she said.
'Er . . . well ... I suppose I - '
'The dress arrived yesterday,' said Ella. 'It's up in the big front room, on a stand so it doesn't get creased. So that it stays perfect. And they've polished up the coach specially. They've hired extra footmen, too.'
'Yes, but perhaps - '
'I think I'm going to have to marry someone I don't want to,' said Ella.
Granny Weatherwax strode up and down the driftwood balcony. The whole shack trembled to her stamping. Ripples spread out as it bounced on the water.
'Of course you don't remember her!' she shouted. 'Our mam kicked her out when she was thirteen! We was both tiny then! But I remember the rows! I used to hear them when I was in bed! She was wanton?
'You always used to say I was wanton, when we was younger,' said Nanny.
Granny hesitated, caught momentarily off balance. Then she waved a hand irritably.
'You was, of course,' she said dismissively. 'But you never used magic for it, did you?'
'Din't have to,' said Nanny happily. 'An off-the* shoulder dress did the trick most of the time.'
'Right off the shoulder and on to the grass, as I recall,' said Granny. 'No, she used magic. Not just ordinary magic, neither. Oh, she was wilfulV
Nanny Ogg was about to say: What? You mean not compliant and self-effacing like what you is, Esme? But she stopped herself. You didn't juggle matches in a fireworks factory.
'Young men's fathers used to come round to complain,' said Granny darkly.
;This used to be a great old city. A happy place. No-one tried to make it happy. It just happened, all by itself,' said Airs Gogol. 'That was when the old Baron was alive. But he was murdered.'
'Who done it?' said Nanny Ogg.
'Everyone knows it was the Duc,' said Airs Gogol.
The witches looked at one another. Royal intrigues were obviously a bit different in foreign parts.
'Pecked to death, was he?' said Nanny.
'A foul deed?' said Granny.
'The Duc is a title, not a bird,' said Mrs Gogol patiently. 'The Baron was poisoned. It was a terrible night. And, in the morning, the Duc was in the palace. Then there was the matter of the will.'
