"Ohhh," Mira says, realizing. The memories from the spell are -- strange. Like the memory of a dream -- a vivid dream, a memorable one, but also not quite her life. She's starting to get used to weird memories. "I saw Spencer, but I, I mean, that version of me didn't know him. But he couldn't talk." She grins. "Which makes you the prince?" Some part of her left over from fairy tale land knows that.

"No, I don't think so. I was..." She shrugs. "A villager. Lived with my parents, loved reading, wanted adventure in the great wide somewhere, you know." She smiles wryly. "Not too crazy different, when you think about it, but then our house got crushed by a giant."