Fairytales Reimagined, Volume I

by Valerie Sells

  To start a fight with some unknown entity, for nothing but your own selfish gain, one had to take the consequences of that, be they good or bad. There was a vague thought in my mind that perhaps my father’s intention in coming here was my rescue, but Ms Trevelyan wanted only the thrill of the hunt and the want of destruction and greed, that I did not doubt at all.

  “My return might be welcome,” I said then, thinking of my father. “He might be so pleased to know I live and prosper that he would not condemn me to another such as she.” I shook my head and sighed. “Though were he to make such an arrangement, I am sure no such match could cause me more pain than I feel in this moment,” I admitted then, one hand over my heart that felt it ought to be missing, and yet I knew it beat on, for it could not cause me such agonies if it did not.

  Swinging myself into the saddle, I bid Goliath go forward into the garden. At a sedate pace, we made a final pass through as much of the castle grounds as I had ever seen in the whole of my time there. It seemed to go on forever in days gone by, now it was all very finite, much more real, and yet far less like home.

  Just as I had quite decided to leave the place, something caught my eye. Steering Goliath to the right, we came upon the corner of the garden I had visited only twice before, and it certainly did look different now.

  “Steady, boy,” I told my dear horse, sliding down from his back and bidding him stay as he was a moment.

  Walking towards the fountain, I found myself yet wary of what may happen on my approach. The structure of it looked less aged and somewhat more clear now, the figure of a woman, her arms outstretched, now clear beneath layers of moss and lichen, years of rust. Water poured from her open hands, down into the fresh clean pool below, that had always remained even without that flowing stream, but the lily was gone.

  No longer did the beautiful, dangerous, enchanting flower float at the base of the fountain. In fact, there was no sign that it had ever been there at all.

  My eyes closed a moment, a final shower of tears falling and becoming part of the fountain’s pool. After which, I had no more left to give.

  Returning to Goliath, I remounted and turned the both of us towards the castle proper.

  “Nothing remains for me here,” I said to whoever or whatever might listen. “With my darling Leta gone and Miss. Trevelyan slain... I have nothing to either hope or fear. It is with renewed purpose, and a braver heart, that I shall return to my father’s estate. I know not what my fate shall be, but I face it all in your name, Leta,” I told her, hoping rather than believing she should hear me somehow. “My only course of action is to live as best I might, in your name. Forever knowing that whatever my body may be committed to, I shall be faithful to only you within my heart. Goodbye, my love.”

  As I rode towards the gates and out into the woods, I did not look back again. I could not bear to. To leave was hard enough. To remind myself so soon of what it was I had lost would have been torture beyond words for my poor, broken heart.

  The ground beneath Goliath’s hooves soon turned from mud and leaves to the stones and rigidity of a path, a road. We cleared the trees and found the sun, and yet I knew the light was forever gone from my life. By returning to where I had begun, I knew I was condemning myself to whatever my father wished for me.

  At best, I might continue as I had been before, or even marry a woman who may yet care for me, but she would never be Leta, and without my love, I swore I could never be myself again.

  “It shall not matter,” I told myself as I rode on. “There is nothing I cannot face with the strength she has taught me, with the love she has ignited in me. I shall live, somehow, for the both of us,” I promised.

  Though I knew not how to keep my word, I was certain of making it my life’s work, to give it my all, the very best effort, if nothing else, and in Leta’s name, always.

  Chapter 8

  When I returned to my father’s home, it was as great a celebration as if the king himself had descended upon the place. At first, I was not entirely certain I believed in my father’s love for me, but no-one could have been more dedicated to the cause of welcoming me home, of showing concern for my health and well-being. I swear I had never seen him shed a tear before, and yet on the day of my return, it was as if an entirely different man stood before me, enraptured in relief beyond comprehension at my coming home.

  I was asked a great deal of questions about where I had been and what had happened to me. I am not ashamed to say that in that regard I lied almost entirely. There was no-one to whom I would entrust the tale of Leta and all that we had been to each other. If I could have borne the idea of sharing such a truth, I was sure my father was not worthy of hearing it, not even now, in his state of abject contrition and relief.

  For more than a month, we lived in some semblance of harmony. Father was goodness itself to me, supplying everything I would ask for, though I requested very little. I kept to my room, reading books I had first discovered in the castle, and dreaming, both asleep and awake, of my dearest one.

  I spoke of Leta to no-one but Goliath, and my visits to the stable were few and far between. I am sure that on the occasions I went out riding the grounds, it was only because I was free then to speak of her, with someone that I could always trust.

  Returning to the house on one particular day, I was surprised to find my father waiting for me, wearing the broadest of smiles upon his face.

  “Beau, my darling boy,” he greeted me cheerfully. “Did you enjoy your ride?”

  “As much as I enjoy anything,” I told him honestly, finding at least some semblance of a smile for him. “Did you require my presence, Father?”

  “I wonder if I might have a word with you, my son,” he said, putting an arm about my shoulders and leading me inside. “It has taken a great while to prepare, and of course, I did not want to startle you with it on the moment of your return. You have been through a great deal, and... Well, the time has now come for us to put all that nasty business with Miss. Trevelyan behind us,” he said, smiling still. “Time to move forward, of course.”

  “Move forward?” I echoed warily. “I have not the pleasure of understanding you, sir.”

  “Well, as you know, Beau, you are now of age, and our fortune is not all it might be. There is still the subject of your future to be discussed.”

  Laughter escaped my lips unbidden. He spoke of marriage, this I knew, and yet I had almost for a moment believed he had chosen not to condemn me to some loveless arrangement. I ought to have known better, and though I could be angry at the suggestion, I knew it would do neither of us any good.

  Father wanted my future secured, and I suppose I ought to have been grateful for the thought. He was brought up to a world where money mattered most, and love came a paltry second or even third to more material things. In my whole lifetime, I should never find the words to convince him he was mistaken, that society as a whole had it all wrong. Better, I supposed, to compromise at the very least. After all, no bride in the length and breadth of the land could possibly win my heart with all the love and affection in the world. My soul was forever tied with Leta’s own. My vow to her was absolute. No marriage of convenience would alter such a thing, but at the very least, it would make my father happy, and ensure I did not starve in later life.

  “Very well,” I told him. “I suppose my marriage is inevitable, but sir, I would beg a favour of you. If there are indeed a number of ladies you would consider for my bride, pray let me consider them too.”

  “In times past, Beau, you were given ample choice,” he reminded me, just a little of the usual bluster and anger I recalled creeping into his tone, something he had been trying to control since my return, I noted. “It was not one you ever seemed prepared to make for yourself.”

  “Much has changed,” I reminded him. “With your agreement, Father, we shall meet each of these potential wives together, and I shall have a part in choosing to whom I must be tied for the rest of my days.”

  Offering
my hand to him, I was only mildly surprised when he took a hold and shook in agreement. The deal was struck in that moment, and arrangements then made with alarming alacrity.

  In the week that followed, I feel I met as many ladies as were alive in the kingdom, and perhaps a great many more from beyond. Some were younger than I, and others older, with skin of every shade, and statures of every kind. Many were beautiful in various ways, and others in the less obvious. Some were yet as repugnant as one I knew before, but none were ever as effervescent and magnificent as the one I had loved, and loved still.

  “Well, I do believe the time has come for us to make a decision,” said my father upon the exit of our final visitor. “We have quite exhausted the list with which we began and...”

  His words quite faded away at the sound of a knock on the door. My good faithful valet, Strauss, made his entrance and bowed low to myself and my father both.

  “My apologies, masters, for this intrusion. The maid is yet seeing Miss. Marchant to the door, but another young lady has arrived to visit with you.”

  “Another?” my father echoed in clear confusion.

  “Yes, sir. She is quite insistent that she be seen, for she claims a prior acquaintance, though I realise only now that she did not give her name.”

  Poor Strauss looked quite startled to realise he had not a clue of this lady’s true identity. Though I should not be amused by his confusion, it did make the most entertaining sight, and I was for any humour I could find or distraction to be had in such a situation.

  “I suppose if she is an acquaintance and so desires to see us,” said my father then. “Send her in, Strauss. I am sure I know not what to expect.”

  “Indeed, sir,” I agreed, looking to him. “I expect she will be much as they all have been.”

  With our faces turned to each other, we neither of us were giving our attention to the door until the young lady had already been escorted into the room. She bowed so low to the ground, it was quite impossible to see her face, and strangely, she seemed determined to say all that she would without yet rising.

  “Sirs, you are most gracious to see me. I understand a great many ladies have called upon you to vie for the hand of one who is more than worthy of us all, but I beg that when the choice is made, it is I who win such a prize.”

  In confusion, I rose from my seat, going over to the poor woman and reaching for her hand to give assistance.

  “Please, I beg you would stand,” I urged her. “For either of us to be a slave to the other, it is intolerable to me. Anyone who might marry should look upon their partner as an equal, I am certain. I will not have you subjugate yourself in this manner. I should not expect to do as much for you or anyone.”

  “This I already know of you, dearest Beau,” she said, rising in one fluid movement and meeting my eyes.

  Her voice was altered. It startled me to realise that I did not know it even when I was sure I knew the person from whom it came. Her eyes were hypnotic, the most incredible shade that I had seen only once before, and so full of light, and love. She laughed when she realised that I had seen the truth of her, and that I did recognise. The gentle lilt of her voice in speech was not so clear, but in laughter, oh yes.

  “And what is it that you can offer us, madam?” I heard my father ask from behind me.

  At such a question, she smiled all the wider.

  “Nothing, sir,” she told him honestly, though her eyes remained locked onto mine. “I have nothing to offer, not even my heart, for it has already been taken from me.”

  Had I not been half certain before, I could not deny the truth now. The face was unfamiliar, the body of a woman in a fine dress meaningless to my senses, but those eyes, the voice to which my ears had now become attuned, the very vibration of her soul next to mine, and I knew. I knew.

  “Leta,” I breathed, unaware of anything but her standing before me, the warmth of her love enveloping me in an instant.

  “No longer should I go by such a name, I think?” she said, tears pooling in her eyes, I hoped from happiness this time.

  “Because you know it to be derived from Leto, who was hidden, as if behind a veil, just as you were,” I said, her hand still gripped tightly in my own, eyes unable to leave her gaze, “but she was so much more than this. Leto was a goddess, demure and modest, but also strong and courageous.”

  If it were possible for her smile to grow then, I was sure it did, and yet she could not have been more beautiful if she had tried. I loved her as she had been and I loved her now. Looks were nothing to me, though for her own sake, I was glad to see her as beautiful outside as I knew her to be within. It occurred to me in that moment, that not only had she gone through some miraculous transformation, but somehow, she lived.

  “You wonder at my presence,” she said, as if reading my very thoughts. “Yet you are the very reason for which I stand here, and for which I appear as I do.

  “When you left my side, the end had finally come. From above my own self, I watched you leave and I wished you well. I waited for the moment when my soul ascended, when the creature I had been so long held no more meaning, but such a moment did not come.

  “I hardly know what time might have passed, only that a presence eventually came to me and explained all. You saw the fountain, I think, in its prettiest of forms. With the magic quite stripped away, the castle was born anew, and with your tears floating upon the water of the enchanted fountain, so was I.”

  Of course, I recalled the day she spoke of beyond clearly, and my moments by the fountain before I rode away for good. I had cried my final tears for Leta there, and some magic had been borne from my pain, perhaps from my love for her. Now she was here, an attractive woman of elegance on the outside, I would not deny, but more importantly, still very much the exquisite beauty I had always known within. There was genuinely no way in which she could have presented herself to me in which I would have denied her, and some fate or magic had now provided her with a face and form that even my father would not turn away.

  “I am afraid I am quite at a loss,” the man himself declared, reminding me for the first time since Leta’s arrival that he was still with us yet. “Beau? Do you know this lady?”

  “I know everything of her that I shall ever need to know,” I declared quite happily. “Father, I believe I shall marry her tomorrow.”

  “Beau, wait but a moment,” he urged me. “She says she has nothing.”

  “And yet on the contrary, she and I shall have everything,” I declared, Leta’s hand gripped tightly in mine as I turned to face him. “You do not understand, Father, and I am sorry for it, but I fear I shall never be able to explain. I can tell you only that this lady has my heart, and I am fortunate enough to hold hers in much the same way. We shall marry, and we shall live happily, for as long as time might allow it. Though poor we may yet be, a rich future together stands before us, and shall not be denied.”

  “I agree,” said Leta bravely, smiling widely when I looked back at her. “The castle was my prison, I cannot return to it. I have only what you see, that is all,” she declared, presenting herself as she was now.

  “You and I shall be quite enough for each other,” I promised her, meaning every word as truthfully as I had ever meant any. “What else could we ever possibly need, my love?”

  I know not what it was that sparked the change in my father’s heart. Perhaps I had been wrong to presume that his affection for my mother had never been as true as it might have been. Perhaps he did know what it was to love another, for somewhere in the moments that followed he declared himself devoted to my happiness, to my marriage to Leta, to all that it would take to see me settled and joyful in my life.

  I confess, though I was grateful for his blessing, I did not require it. Leta and I would have lived as peasants if we must, in order to be together, for our love would sustain us somehow, some way.

  In the years that followed, we did have money enough, and a family to call our own. My father was our ally and we liv
ed in his house with him in comfort all the days of his life. He saw us married, and grandchildren born and raised. In his name, we went on with our lives in grace and harmony long after he departed, and Leta was my beloved then, as she remains so now.

  And in the true beauty of each other’s love and devotion, we did indeed live happily ever after.

  About the Author

  Valerie has been an administrator all of her adult life, but has always dreamed of being an author of novels. She cut her teeth on fanfiction but is now finally sharing her original works with the world. An avid reader, writer, and self-proclaimed nerd in all the best ways, she wants to find people who love to read the kind of things she loves to write. Valerie lives in the south of England with her ever-supportive family, dreaming up new characters and plots, and Tweeting about her adventures in writing - @Valerie_Sells

  Other Titles by the Author

  Unleashing the Spirit Within

  a novel of paranormal romance and mystery

  Truths Universally Acknowledged

  a contemporary retelling of ‘Pride & Prejudice’

  Relative Theories

  a contemporary nerd romance

  Rumour and Reputation

  a historical romance novel