The King sought for his youngest daughter amidst hollow tree trunks, under fallen branches, and behind thick, ageless trees. Yet as he searched for her, a cry most terrible came from the heart of the forest. Swift did he race toward that sound, his heart thundering within his breast. Darker grew the woods around him, for the ancient trees grew so thick that scarce a ray of light could pierce their canopy.
He comes to a stop as he finds his eldest daughter, seated cross-legged in a clearing. At his arrival, a queer smile formed upon her lips. But she was not alone, for from betwixt the shadows emerged a creature. A witch of the old blood, her eyes pale as moonlight and her hair dark as raven’s wings. Shadows writhed about her form, seeming to drink the very light from the air. The King’s magic recoiled from her presence, for such dark powers had not been seen in these lands.
Though the King bid his daughter to flee, she heeded not his words. When he made to snatch her from harm’s way, the witch’s power struck swiftly as a serpent, plunging his world into darkness most profound.
Years passed until one fair day, the Queen ventured forth to gather posies for her youngest daughter’s nameday celebration. The kingdom would soon feast and make merry, but first would the Queen and her princesses share sweet pastries by the hearth, as was their custom.
As she bent to pluck fair daisies from their bed, there came the soft crack of twigs. There, amidst the wildflowers, she spied a magnificent stag whose eyes held the very color of summer skies. The woodland creatures typically flee from Faerie-kind, yet this noble beast fled not, his eyes affixed to her every move.
Drawing near with careful step, she found herself possessed of a strange yearning to touch his tawny coat and stroke the ivory velvet of his mighty antlers. These eyes, she knew them well, for they were the very eyes of the King that had captured her heart so many moons ago.
When, at last, she cupped his noble face in her palm, the stag released a sound of such profound anguish that it pierced her very soul. Tears, both his and hers, flowed freely as they shared their grief, kneeling together upon the forest floor. Tears of sorrow fell upon his brow, accompanied by love's true kiss.
The wind whipped between them, magic in its purest form stirring. In the stag’s place, the long-lost Fae King now stands in his proper form. Yet, the price of such magic proved dear indeed. For while the curse upon him broke, a portion of its power passed unto his beloved Queen, crowning her head with delicate antlers and dusting her fair visage with spots like starlight.
The witch's curse, he explained with a trembling voice, had condemned him to roam the woods as a beast, forever denied love's sweet embrace. Only a kiss of true love, given in deepest sorrow, could break the spell—though such breaking would demand a terrible price.
But crueler still was fate's design, for upon their return to the castle, they found their daughters had vanished as though they had never been. Thus, the King and Queen did learn the terrible cost of breaking such ancient magic—that to regain their love, they must sacrifice that which they held most dear.
And so, they dwell still in their faerie realm, their hearts both full and empty, rulers of a kingdom where deer and Fair Folk are as one. For such is the way of magic most ancient. It gives with one hand while taking with the other, weaving tales that shall be whispered in the deep woods until the end of all days.
I flip to the next page, then the next, then through the rest of the book. Every other page is empty.
I go back to the beginning of the tale and read it a second time before looking up, trying to process what I just read.Thisis afairytale? This is what our children are being read before they go to sleep? Those parents had their children stolen from them. There was no happy ending.
The story wassimilarto what Ruby and Elle told me, but there were some glaring differences. There’s nothing about the Deer Queen’s daughter returning with a great stag. There’s nothing about how the different High Houses were even created. There’s nothing about Wrena’s true daughter. What even happened to Wrena’s children? Were they kidnapped? Did they run away?
Three sharp raps echo from the front hallway. I shove the book back under my bed and stand, grabbing my robe before I hurry to the front door.
Nora and Ruby greet me, bags of makeup and hair products in hand.
“Your Highness,” Nora says brightly. “We’re here to prepare you for your date with Prince August.”
“Oh,” I say, lamely. “Right.” I open the door wider, gesturing them inside. My brain feels like scrambled eggs right now.
Nora and Ruby get to work, but all I can think about is the dream that’s starting to feel like it wasn’t a dream. I can’t stop thinking about it, the moss tendrils of the Mother’s fingers, her piercing crystal gaze…I feel insane for even thinking this, but I’m almost confident the Mother came down from the heavens and visited me in the middle of the night. To deliver a book, of all things.
Did this actually happen?
And why did the Mother gift me this tale?
Chapter 18
August stands by the front door,dressed in a white button-down shirt and powder-blue slacks. He holds a picnic basket in one hand and a bouquet of daises in the other. He sees me, and a smile lights up his face, revealing dimples that make him even cuter.
I return the smile. “Hey, August. It’s good to see you again.”
He holds out the flowers and says, “For you. I hope you like daisies.”
“I love daisies! They’re beautiful. Thank you so much,” I say.
I turn toward the kitchen, but Nora is there. She holds her hands out and says, “I’ll put them in some water. You guys have fun!”
“Thanks, Mom,” I say, winking at her.
As usual, William is waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. And as usual, he gives me a brief bow before he sees me. I wave him off as he starts to follow us toward the front door. Thankfully, he stops in his tracks and doesn’t follow us.
I turn to August. “What are we doing for our date?”
