The prince (he was going by Dylan now), looked small as he curled up on Maxine's couch, as if he had shrunk in the wash. His face was almost entirely obscured by a mop of hair.

"Do you want a haircut?" Maxine asked.

"I don't trust you not to cut me," he said.

"That's fair."

She stared at him, taking in his defiant gaze, at odds with the way he clung to his knees and shivered as she looked at him.

"So. Is there a tell when one of you changes to look like someone else? Something I can look for that can help me."

"Nothing you could notice. I can't change properly anymore, but anyone else brought here from my planet can mimic how someone looks exactly. Other than a smell you wouldn't be able to smell, there's no sign."

She tapped her fingers on her copy of the book and started to smirk. "It's true that I wouldn't notice. Anything else?"

"I don't have anything useful." He glared harder, but shrunk even further into his own body.

"Why can't you shape-shift anymore?"

"I can!" he said, shooting up to stand straight in front of the couch.

"Go on, then." She raised an eyebrow in wait.

"Uh..." He started to slowly change until he looked almost like the Prime Minister. The illusion wasn't perfect, though. He couldn't hide the scars his real form had, and they pulled at the image he shifted his face into. And then he started to shiver and lost the whole look, turning back to his regular nervous shape.

"Good to know," she said, nodding, already imagining how she could use him. "I'll ask Tori to learn what the scent is, when she's free. And until then, I guess I'll get you a blanket."