“I do not know. But you are not like me, Eva. We are very different. Look at your dress, and then at mine.”
In truth, every here and there upon the rich velvet of Aster’s dress were soils and stains, while not a spot discolored the pure white Eva wore.
“Now do you see?” Aster asked. “You know that we are in Shadow-Land, and it can only affect things which are like itself; it cannot harm you or deceive you.”
“Do you belong here?”
“No,” Aster said, “I came from there,” pointing to the round full moon above their heads. “I wish I was there again.”
“Why don’t you go back, then?”
“I can’t, unless you help me. They who sent me here say so.”
“Why did they send you here?”
“Because up there,” pointing to the moon, “I lost my flower, and everything which is lost there falls into Shadow-Land, as everything which is lost in Fairy-Land falls into the Enchanted River; and so they sent me here to find it again, because a prince cannot live there without his flower; and I cannot find it unless you help me. Now you know who I am, Eva,—the moon-prince, Aster.”
“Then must I say Prince Aster?”