by Sarah Noffke
He saluted her with his tiny little arm in a very dignified manner. “You got it. I’ll be the perfect picture of poise, and no one but you will know that I exist.”
Paris huffed, shook her head, and doubted her sanity. She sorely hoped that the squirrel was real and not a figment of her imagination that she created to cope with all the changes.
She made her way down the winding path to the large mansion and braced herself for the adventure ahead.
Chapter Ten
As the unlikely pair stepped onto the wraparound porch of the large Victorian mansion, a mysterious figure watched from the shadows of the Bewilder Forest.
The animal’s green eyes reflecting the ambient light were the only sign from a distance that he lurked in the darkness. No one would expect this creature to be on the grounds of Happily Ever College since strong magical spells heavily protected it. Only those invited to enter through special portals were allowed entry to the place that existed in a bubble of sorts. But those rules didn’t apply to Plato—no rules ever did.
The magical lynx watched as Paris and Faraday argued about whether she should ring the doorbell or knock on the mansion’s large, stately entrance. Plato had been waiting a long time for this moment—and yet, there was still so much more that needed to happen. Paris had finally made it to Happily Ever After College as the powerful and all-knowing cat always knew she would. Now, the real work began. This was only the beginning.
The timing of everything was important, as it usually was with events as serious and complex as this. Nothing could happen to fix things until Paris Beaufont was ready. She currently thought she was Paris Westbridge, so there was much to unravel, but it would take time. Things couldn’t be rushed.
Plato reasoned that he’d waited this long for the fairy to mature. It wouldn’t be much longer now. Time passing was relative for the lynx. A hundred years went by in an instant. The last two decades…well, they’d felt like the longest years of his very long life.
Hopefully, all that would change soon. However, the only person who could fix things was the fairy currently standing on the grand Victorian mansion’s porch and arguing with a squirrel.
Paris Beaufont was about to enter a brand new world, and it would change everything for her. If things went to plan, she’d change everything for the world in turn—which was exactly what Plato needed to happen.
Chapter Eleven
Paris had always liked doors. She collected pictures of interesting ones painted in different colors, with unique knockers and handles. Blue doors set into orange stucco or red ones on an all-white building. The thing she liked most about them was that they always led to somewhere so they were a marker of sorts—the entry to a new place, a change.
Dark stained glass windows of birds and mice entangled in a thick pink sash inlaid the double front doors to the huge Victorian mansion. Paris never read fairytales like Cinderella. She wasn’t about to start either, but she knew where the references to the woodland creatures came from and it made her momentarily doubt her decision yet again. If anyone wasn’t cut out to be a fairy godmother and create love for two people, it was Paris.
Honestly, the fairy had never believed in love. It was only a chemical reaction that wore off when the guy quit trying, and the girl started nagging. Love was a thing that Mother Nature used so the human race would procreate. Paris realized that she was more than cynical on the matter, but how could she not be?
All her life, she hadn’t seen real love. The movies painted it as though the happy ending was the guy getting the girl, but they didn’t tell the part where he got fat, and she started reading trashy novels to fill the emptiness. Love songs were usually snapshots created when someone felt fuzzy feelings, but those wore off like the overly full feeling after eating a tray of nachos or the excitement after buying a new leather jacket.
Paris glanced down at her worn leather jacket with the rip from her fight with the giant named Madow. She was overdue for a new coat, but that would probably have to wait since she was out of funds, jobless, and at a college where she was supposedly required to wear a gown. Revulsion flip-flopped in Paris’ stomach as she tried to come to terms with her new reality—repeatedly.
“Are you planning to ring the doorbell anytime today?” Faraday asked beside her.
She narrowed her eyes at the squirrel, pretending he was her complete source of annoyance. In truth, Paris realized that she was stalling. Her frustration wasn’t really at the mysterious squirrel but rather at her entire predicament. Faraday was the only thing that had gone right all day. He wanted to be Paris’ friend, and she didn’t know anyone volunteering for that position in her life.
“I was thinking of using the knocker.” She ran her gaze over the bronze knob of a rabbit and below it, a large ring set on a small placard. It reminded Paris of the white rabbit from Alice and Wonderland, and she suddenly felt as if she’d fallen down the rabbit hole and had no idea where she’d end up. She’d much rather be trapped in those stories than Cinderella’s, but it didn’t appear she had a choice.
“I’d like to hear the chime the doorbell makes,” Faraday countered. “I have to think it’s enchanting and loud for a place of this size.”
“I’ll remind you that you’re along for the ride and therefore, you get no vote.”
The squirrel showed his teeth while making a biting motion. “That doesn’t seem very democratic.”
“Probably because this isn’t a democracy,” Paris argued. “This is my life, and I get to live it the way I want.”
“Which is why you’re attending Happily Ever After College against your will,” Faraday chirped.
“I’m going to use the knocker,” Paris remarked dryly.
“Can we do both?” The squirrel scampered back and forth, pausing and rocking back on his hind legs in front of a large planter beside the front door.
Paris grunted. “No, that’s overkill. I want them—whoever they are—to know that I’m here, but not to be irritated by my arrival from the start.”
He nodded. “First impressions are everything. So where are the fresh-baked goods?”
“The what?” Paris asked.
“Well, I think it’s customary to offer treats to your host upon arrival,” Faraday offered.
“They’re at the store. I don’t bake.”
“Well, maybe you can pick some of these flowers and offer them.” He indicated the begonias spilling over the sides of the planter.
“Yeah, because they won’t notice that I’ve pulled up their flowers and given them as a gift.”
“I’m simply offering you suggestions since you showed up empty-handed.” Faraday crossed his arms over his chest.
“I brought you, which once fattened up, will be perfect served with a nice chutney,” Paris teased.
He grimaced at her. “You make a multitude of threats.”
Paris batted her eyelashes at him. “It’s part of my charm.”
“I simply think the doorbell makes the most sense—”
The clinking of the door handle cut off the squirrel’s words. Paris’ eyes jerked up, startled. On the other side of the stained glass was a figure.
With little time to react, Paris did the first thing she could think of and booted the squirrel to the side, making him dive into the planter. A squeal escaped his mouth as Faraday disappeared into the flowers while Paris straightened and looked into the eyes of a studious butler who regarded her with great skepticism.
Chapter Twelve
The man, who Paris assumed was a butler only because he appeared to be the epitome of one with his starched black pinstriped suit and white gloves and pursed lips, craned his head before looking at Paris.
“Were you talking to someone?” he asked in a very refined British accent, still looking around.
Paris coughed uncomfortably, careful to keep her eyes off the planter where Faraday was thankfully as quiet as a mouse…or a squirrel she would murder if he made any noises.
“I was tal
king to myself.” She forced a smile.
“Oh.” The man still searched the empty grounds, but not finding anything, snapped to attention.
He wore a three-piece suit of the finest quality and was older, although an exact age was hard to pinpoint with fairies since they aged much slower than other races. Like most, he’d glamoured his wings out of the way. That was a practical thing most fairies did since they could cause clearance issues.
Really, most fairies didn’t have much use for their wings in the modern world since they were mostly for show and not very practical for transport. It simply cost too much energy to use them for flying, and it was ineffective at best. Still, it was always easy to spot her kind and Paris knew the man to be a fairy. He’d neatly combed his grayish hair to the side, and he had a distinguished look in his green eyes.
“You must be Paris Westbridge. The headmistress has been expecting you.”
Paris nodded. “Well, I’m here and ready.”
Jeeves, or whatever the man’s name was, looked Paris over, taking in her jeans and leather jacket and tousled blonde hair. “Do you have anything you need me to bring in for you?”
“Unless you want to carry me in, then no.” She chuckled.
A sudden look of disapproval sprang to the butler’s face, and Paris sensed he wasn’t the joking type.
“I’m Wilfred Biltmore.” He bowed to Paris. “I’m the butler for the Fairy Godmother Estate or as we call it, FGE.” He waved his hand to indicate the mansion where he stood. After taking a step backward, he held out his gloved hand in a presenting fashion. “Please come in, and I’ll show you to the sitting room where you can wait for the headmistress.”
The butler’s overly formal nature immediately made Paris want to crack some jokes and follow them up with, “Cheerio, old chap. Right-o. Bob’s your uncle.”
Instead, she casually glanced over her shoulder at the planter where Faraday was still hiding, hoping that he was okay there. She figured the talking squirrel had made it this far and probably knew how to take care of himself.
Turning her attention back to the waiting butler, she nodded and allowed herself to be led into the Victorian house known as FGE, where she immediately felt that she’d stepped into a brand new and very strange world.
Chapter Thirteen
The smell of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies was intoxicating when Paris stepped over the threshold into the mansion. If that wasn’t enough to assault her senses, she suddenly felt transported back in time.
As when she stepped through the portal onto the college's grounds, she felt like she was visiting grandma. Paris half-expected an older woman with an apron and a loving smile to toddle out of one of the many doorways that lined the long hallway.
That was the part that made the mansion all of a sudden not feel as cozy, although if she blinked, she felt that she might fool herself into believing she was in a tiny little cottage instead of a huge house.
Straight off the entrance was a long hallway that led to what appeared to be a large sunroom at the back of the house—a green lawn winked through the glass windows. Doors lined the hallway and to the left of the spacious entry was a grand staircase that led to the various floors.
To the left of the staircase was an elegant round sitting room that Paris suspected was in one of the house’s many turrets. Fancy furniture that Paris couldn’t picture sitting on filled it. Paisley designs and oil paintings covered the walls. Sitting in the corner was a piano and in front of the crackling fire was a cozy cat curled up on a tufted sofa. The fat orange cat cracked an eye and peered at Paris appraisingly, annoyance evident on its face for being disturbed during nap time.
“I trust that you’ll be okay waiting here while I collect the headmistress,” Butler Stuffy Face said in his posh voice.
Paris should have said, “Yes, of course.” Instead, she opened her mouth, and against her better judgment sang, “Capital! Pip, pip, Wilfred.”
The butler arched a curious eyebrow at Paris, probably trying to figure out if she was serious or not. “Very well,” he finally said stuffily. “Now, I suspect I’ll see you around since you’ll be here full-time.”
Paris glanced out the large bank of windows and stared at the grounds of Happily Ever After College, having a surreal moment that she was now inside the mansion that towered over her moments prior. She gulped, nodded, and glanced down, suddenly worried that she’d tracked mud into the pristine room with her combat boots. Thankfully they appeared clean. However, the thick carpet was white like much of the furniture, as if they were inviting a huge mess.
“If you need anything at all, you simply must call for me,” Wilfred stated. “No matter where you are in the house, say my name and I’ll appear.”
Now it was Paris’ turn to arch a curious eyebrow at the butler. “This must be a very large place. How will you hear me?”
He nodded with his hands clasped behind his back. “There are three stories to FGE not including the basement and cellars, and over one hundred and twenty-six rooms, although the number fluctuates plus or minus ten depending.”
Paris tilted her head to the side, her expression saying, “Go on.” When Wilfred didn’t continue his seemingly unfinished sentence, she prompted, “Depending on what?”
He shrugged. “Many factors. The number of residents and activities as well as other things that I’m sure you’ll learn about over time.”
She glanced at the far wall and studied it. “So are the walls like those accordion ones that can fold in and create different spaces? I had one of those in my place where I could pretend I had a separate living room in my studio apartment.”
Wilfred’s eyes tightened. “The manor is not at all like your apartment, I’m guessing. It rearranges itself using the magic that governs Happily Ever After College.”
“Right.” Paris drew out the word. “I guess the furnace doesn’t hiss and the water heater doesn’t take eons to heat up.”
“I think you’ll find that we’re very comfortable here at Happily Ever After College,” he said in his refined tone. “The headmistress will be in charge of your tour. I’ll go and alert her of your arrival.”
Paris simply nodded, wondering how uptight this headmistress was if Wilfred was any indication.
Grabbing both of the double doors to the sitting room, the butler pulled them shut after backing out of the room, leaving her alone with the sleeping cat.
Turning back to the windows, Paris searched the front patio for signs of Faraday. Not seeing any indication of him, she redirected her attention to studying the sitting room, which was rich with decorations and furniture.
She’d never been in a place this fancy. Uncle John was a simple man who kept things pretty minimalistic. Paris always liked that about him. They never had much money, but she never went without—well, as long as he knew she needed something. In recent years, knowing she needed to start taking care of herself and not be a burden to her uncle, Paris had tried to do without and live on her own, but usually that meant she went hungry.
Paris’ mind suddenly started to roam as she studied a set of black and white photographs on the wall. All featured women in long gowns. So many thoughts competed for her attention right then.
Out of the blue, she wondered about something that never plagued her—her parents. Standing in that strange sitting room with an orange cat and a bunch of possessions that had to belong to a grandmother, she wondered if her attending Fairy Godmother College would have made her parents proud. It was a tough place to get into, and Uncle John had pulled strings to get her there, although she’d picked up on the fact that the college was hurting for enrollment.
However, she was suddenly curious what her parents would think of this career choice. It had to be better than her working two-bit jobs or getting into trouble on Roya Lane. In truth, Paris didn’t know because she didn’t know much about her parents. Uncle John had said they were good people. They were quiet and simple. Accountants.
Apparently, th
ey had gone to an accounting conference, and that’s where they both disappeared when Paris was young. No one knew what happened to them and the investigation had been closed after no leads turned up.
Paris didn’t know what could happen to simple people at an accountant conference. Maybe they died of boredom, she joked to herself with a morbid laugh.
She was able to make such bad jokes because she didn’t have many memories of them. Nothing to make their absence hurt. Only blurry memories of two figures she only sensed love from. Uncle John had echoed that sentiment, stating that they’d never abandon Paris so something must have happened to them.
Their disappearance was why Uncle John became a detective, but even with all his efforts and expertise, he’d never been able to find the couple. Paris didn’t like feeling sorry for herself about not having two people she didn’t remember all that well. She had Uncle John, and he was by far the best man in the world and the best one to have raised her. He’d taught her to be tough and loved her unconditionally, which was vital because Paris was one of those types who tried people’s patience and tolerance. Yet, that man had not so much as ever raised his voice at her.
She instantly missed her uncle, the realization that she wouldn’t be able to pop into his office between shifts settling in. However, Paris consoled herself with the notion that attending Happily Ever After College saved her uncle from getting into trouble. In the back of her mind and deep within her heart, she hoped that maybe it saved her. If she was honest with herself, Paris knew that she couldn’t keep going down the same path she’d been on the last few years. Things needed to change, and that had started the moment she walked through the door to Fairy Godmother Estate.
Still lost in thought, looking out the window without seeing, Paris nearly jumped when the double doors to the sitting room burst open.