Frostbitten Fairy Tales

by Melanie Karsak

  “My dear family,” Robert said. I caught just a glimpse of him as he passed across the stage holding a letter. “My travel is set. I am to leave on the ‘morrow. What can I bring you all upon my return?”

  “Jewels!” Hannah shouted.

  “Silk, gowns, ribbons,” Amy shouted.

  “A hat of the new fashion,” Agnes added.

  Robert laughed. “Girls, girls, I shall endeavor to do my best. But what of my Ella? What would you like, my dear?”

  “Bring me…bring me the first branch that touches your hat on your way home to me,” Lizzie said with such earnest sweetness that I raised my eyebrows. She was playing her best that morning.

  At that, the other actresses laughed meanly. Marion had certainly missed her calling, I thought then turned and looked through a crack in the wood at the audience. I scanned over the benches which were crowded with fine lords and ladies. They watched attentively, lost in one of their favorite tales. I looked for a familiar green coat in the crowd. Finally, I spotted him. John stood toward the rear of the audience with two other young men who looked familiar. I smiled when I saw him, my heart quickening. Oh no! He’d come to see my Persephone but found Marion instead.

  I bit my bottom lip then looked for Kai. He was not beside the brazier where he’d been standing last night. In fact, I didn’t see him anywhere. His manner had been so odd. Was the injury worse than it looked? Maybe he was so fixed on setting her ankle to right that he’d forgotten himself. It wasn’t unusual for him to be distracted with a patient, but it was unusual for him to be rude. Had Kai ever been rude to me before? I couldn’t remember a time.

  Robert passed me as he left the stage, and the harp fluttered as the scene changed.

  “Dead already?” I whispered.

  Robert nodded. “Now to get a pint or two before faerie time,” he said with a wink then left.

  I watched John as he stood with his fellows. They spoke in low tones, smiling and jostling one another. Who were these other young gentlemen? They seemed quite…jovial. Were they simply merry or were they intoxicated? I scanned the crowd once more. My eyes stopped, however, when I spotted the fine foreign gentleman. He stood in the middle of the crowd, seemingly unaware of the crush of people around him. Both of his hands rested on his walking stick in front of him as he watched the tale unfold.

  I smiled. He really was very handsome. His features were fine, not a hint of a beard on him, his lips curving perfectly.

  Even as I thought it, the gentleman’s gaze shifted. He turned and looked at me. He smiled.

  Gasping, I leaned back from the open cranny in the slab.

  “Cinderwench!”

  “Cinderella!”

  I turned back toward the stage and watched as the tragedy unfolded. Her father lost, left to the devices of her stepmother, Ella’s life began to crumble. The play moved forward, and finally, fate had bruised Cinderella enough.

  Alone on stage, Lizzie wept with her head in her arms before a mock fireplace. “Oh, mother. Oh, father. Oh, wicked fate,” she wailed.

  Holding my wand, I moved nimbly, floating onto the stage with a dancer’s grace. Skippy strummed the harp lightly, a tinkling of sound enchanting the space.

  The audience held its breath.

  Moving carefully, I let myself dissolve into the character. I let myself feel the godmother’s concern, love, and pity for the sweet maiden. I also felt a little sting of anger, wanting to take revenge on the jealous stepmother and sisters.

  “Like an airy spirit, I

  Granting wishes as I pass by

  How now, sweet young thing

  A face far fairer than the spring

  Do not weep, do not cry

  Let me, your faerie godmother, dry thy eye.”

  “Did you say…did you say faerie godmother?” Lizzie, as Ella, asked with a sniff. She sat up and looked at me, wiping real tears from her eyes. Impressive.

  I smiled nicely and curtseyed to her.

  “Do not despair, my precious dear.

  Your faerie godmother is now here

  And to the ball, you’ll swiftly go

  A maiden more of joy than woe.”

  And on we went. A pumpkin, four stuffed mice, two clay lizards, a gown, and a pair of glittery shoes later, my scene ended, and Lizzie was off to the ball.

  As I made my exit, I heard a whistle from the back of the crowd. I looked back to see John smiling and clapping for me. His chaps grinned from him to me.

  I cast my eyes across the audience once more.

  Kai had not come.

  The foreign gentleman, however, inclined his head to me.

  Blushing, I headed backstage to wait until the final curtain call.

  “Well done,” Marve whispered. “And don’t worry. We’ll have you back as Persephone tomorrow. Marion was a disaster.”

  Behind us, someone cleared their throat.

  It was Marion.

  “Ah, Marion,” Marve said, a guilty look crossing his face.

  “I wanted to talk to you about my costume in Midwinter’s wedding scene,” she said, frowning. It was clear she heard but was pretending she had not.

  Marve nodded to me then headed to the backstage tent with Marion.

  I smiled as I watched Lizzie in the ballroom scene. Her dazzling blue and gold ball gown shimmered in the morning sunlight. Her curls, twisted into ringlets, bounced nicely as she and her prince danced.

  I peered out at the audience through the crack in the wood once more. The ladies’ eyes sparkled with delight as they saw the cinder girl win her prince at the ball. Alas, when the clock struck twelve, Cinderella had to flee, her slipper left behind.

  James, playing the role of the prince, searched desperately for the girl with the glass slipper. The ladies in the audience winced, hiding their faces in their fur muffs as the stepsisters sliced off their toes to try to fit their feet into the dainty slipper. One lady swooned when Amy took a knife to her toes, dropping a red handkerchief filled with wooden toes onto the stage. Despite Amy’s and Hannah’s best efforts, they could not fit the shoe that I had created just for the cinder girl.

  “Perhaps I can try,” Lizzie said demurely.

  Hannah and Amy laughed.

  James slid the slipper on Lizzie’s dainty foot.

  “A perfect fit,” he said with a gasp.

  At that, Lizzie slid on her second slipper and was led off stage, leaving Hannah and Amy to weep. Lizzie quickly stripped off the cinder girl’s humble frock and slid on a wedding gown. I hurriedly laced the back while Agnes tidied her hair and set a ring of flowers on her head.

  The others exited the other side of the stage, and soon the wedding march sounded. Remodeled into a bride, Lizzie and James joined hands and took the stage. With a few sweet words and kisses, the play ended.

  It had gone well, but I was very glad it was done. I spied out the crack once more. John and his companions were gone. Perhaps he was waiting at the back? My heart beat a little harder. Surely he would not leave again. I scanned around for Kai. Neither he nor the foreign gentleman were anywhere to be seen.

  Suddenly, I was all out of suitors.

  I chuckled, chiding myself. Kai was, most certainly, not a suitor.

  And the foreign gentleman? Well, maybe next time it wouldn’t hurt to ask his name.

  Once the story concluded, we waited for a final curtain call. Then, at last, we would break until the evening’s performance. I’d have a whole day to spend with John, assuming he hadn’t run into any emergency errands again. But even as I thought it, I knew I was being unfair. After all, his father was ill. But if his father was ill, why was he in London rather than at their home in Twickenham? I frowned.

  Gathering together, we took the stage once more to cheers and calls of bravo. It seemed to me that the crowd, merry from their enjoyment of being at the fair, was far more enthusiastic than the simple play warranted. But, all the same, they seemed to be pleased with the performance. And in truth, Lizzie had played her part very we
ll.

  At last, they let us go.

  “Well done,” I cheered Lizzie, linking my arm in hers.

  “I think it went over well. I felt the character—as you are always telling me to try to—and it did change my performance, I think.”

  “You did wonderfully,” Agnes told her with a smile.

  “Nice work, Lizzie,” Marve told her.

  “Sir, Miss Lizzie,” Harold said, approaching Marve and Lizzie. He handed Lizzie a copy of the playbill on which I saw some handwriting.

  Lizzie took it from him. Her hand trembling, she read: “For the cinder girl. Very notably enacted. I invite you to call on me. Master James Grady, Sadler’s Wells Theatre.”

  Everyone went silent.

  When Lizzie looked up, her eyes were wet with tears.

  “Oh, Lizzie,” I whispered. “Sadler’s Wells! That’s…remarkable,” I said then pulled her into an embrace.

  The others soon wrapped their arms around her as well and all at once, we fell into a crushing hug, everyone giggling and laughing, Lizzie in tears at the center.

  When we finally let her go, Marve cleared his throat. “I’m making buckets of money at this fair, but it hardly seems worth the expense of losing a wonderful actress.”

  “Well, I’m not lost yet,” Lizzie said.

  “Dear girl, we all know what a note like that means. Call on him tomorrow morning. Amy can play the role of Cinderella for you. We’ll have Skippy play the other sister,” Marve said.

  I laughed. Skippy, our young errand boy, would not be in a good mood after learning this news.

  “Come on. Let’s go celebrate. Elyse?” Amy said.

  “Sorry. I’m meeting someone.”

  “Elyse and her gentleman,” Lizzie said with a roll of the eyes, teasing me.

  I smiled at her.

  “Let’s go,” she said to the other girls and they headed to the tent, leaving Marve and me alone.

  “I’m sorry, Elyse,” Marve said.

  “Sorry? Whatever for?”

  “Marion…if you had played Persephone this morning, there would have been two notes. The faerie godmother was well-played, but it’s such a small, trifling part.”

  “If I was the suspicious type, I’d say you sabotaged me on purpose,” I jested.

  Marve went pale. “Elyse, I’d never—”

  I grinned then kissed him on the cheek. “I know, I know. Granny used to say there was no more honest man of the stage in London than you.”

  Marve wrapped his arm around me then, patting me on the back.

  “Now, let me see about my gentleman.” With a wave, I headed toward my small dressing area. On the other side of the tent, I heard the girls gushing loudly, all excited for Lizzie’s great news. I pulled my hair out of its bun. Sighing, I rested my elbows on my knees, my forehead on my hands. I was a fool to chase love when what I should have been chasing was my career. I should never have let Marion take my part. I was too nice, and it had cost me. Tomorrow, I would not be so nice. And if John was not waiting for me at the front of the Ice House, I didn’t know what I was going to do.

  I looked back into the mirror and rearranged my hair once more. I then took my ballet slippers, which I had left sitting on my trunk, and placed them back inside with the rest of my costumes. I noticed then that the Persephone costume had not been returned. I slipped out of my costume, laying it in the trunk, then pulled back on my winter gown and blue coat.

  If John was not there, I’d go find Kai. I had to tell him about what had happened with Marion and Lizzie. If anyone could advise me, it was him.

  I headed out of the tent toward the entrance of the Ice House Theatre. There I found a carriage waiting. A black horse, its mane decorated with bells, exhaled deeply, creating huge clouds of steam. John was sitting in the driver’s seat.

  I smiled when I saw him.

  Slipping out of his seat, he offered me his hand.

  “Come, faerie godmother, and grant me three wishes.”

  “I am a faerie, not a genie,” I replied, placing my hand in his.

  He laughed. “Then grant me just one wish,” he said, stepping close.

  “And what might that be?” I asked.

  “A kiss,” he whispered.

  Hidden behind the steed, I leaned toward him. John lowered his lips onto mine. They were warm. A heady scent of sherry clung to him. I leaned into his kiss, tasting the sharp herbal and salty flavors in his mouth.

  When we broke apart, my heart was beating hard. “Let’s go,” he said, helping me into the carriage.

  “Go where?” I asked.

  “And ruin the surprise? Never,” he replied with a laugh.

  I joined him on the seat of the carriage. He pulled a blanket over our legs, and with a click to his horse, he turned the carriage away from the Frost Fair toward the city. Under the cover of the blanket, I set my hand on his knee. John grinned, and we headed off on an adventure.

  Chapter 11: Fooling Mother Nature

  “Where are we going?” I asked with a laugh as we headed away from the frozen Thames and back into the city.

  “It’s a surprise,” John replied.

  I held my hood and looked back toward Captain Behra’s frozen ship. I bit my lower lip.

  The carriage rolled off the Thames and onto the cobblestone London street. A gust blew up from behind us, the wind whipping angrily off the Thames. Angry snowflakes swirled around us then died down as we made our first turn into the city.

  “Strange weather on the Thames this morning,” I said.

  “How so?” John asked.

  “The wind…one would think it has a mind of its own. It seems to whip with such purpose.”

  John grinned. “You have a very healthy imagination, Miss McKenna. Perhaps that’s how you play so well.”

  I smiled. “I do try to take on the emotions of my characters, to feel what they feel.”

  He looked at me, an odd expression on his face. “You deceive with great craft.”

  “What can I say, I am an artisan,” I said with exaggerated drama.

  John laughed.

  I snuggled closer to him as we turned through the London streets. At that moment, I hardly cared where we were headed. I loved that we were close to one another, that I felt the warmth of his body. All my worries melted away. Lizzie’s warning, while well-intended, had stirred my worries and had my imagination going at the City of Moscow that morning. But as I leaned into John, all those fears disappeared.

  We were getting quite close to Buckingham Palace when John turned the carriage on a side road. Unfamiliar with this part of town, I had no idea where we were headed. What I could discern, however, was that we were driving down a path through a very elaborate garden. A moment later, I spied a metal and glass roof. The white metal frame of the building was interspersed with panes of glass that glinted in the sunlight. The place was shaped like a series of domes.

  “Oh my,” I exclaimed, placing my fingers against my lips. “What is this place?”

  “Rose House,” John said with a smile. “The only warm place left in London,” he added with a laugh.

  “It’s a herbarium?”

  He nodded. “You will see. Rose House is no false moniker.”

  “To whom does it belong?”

  “The crown, of course.”

  “But John…” I started, thinking to ask how in the world he would manage entry into such a place but stopped my words short. A gentleman would know such ways. An artisan would not.

  He pulled the carriage to a stop outside the elaborate greenhouse. The carriage drive circled around a fountain. At its center, a marble lord and lady danced, their garlands of flowers made of stone. Ice clung to their arms and faces, and their heads were covered in inches of snow.

  John slid out of the carriage then took my hand and helped me out. Given its appeal on such a cold day, I was surprised to see there were no other visitors. The path had not been cleared. Only a single set of footprints heading inside marred the sno
wy ground.

  I stepped lightly through the snow, John holding my hand, as we went to the door. John rapped lightly on the door then called a “hello?”

  A moment later, an old man wearing a heavy coat came to the door. He was the gruff sort, his face squinting with annoyance at everything he saw.

  “You got it?” he asked John from the other side of the door, not bothering to even respond with the appropriate courtesy.

  John nodded then lifted a small packet to show the man. “And your touring fee,” John added.

  The old man raised an eyebrow at him then looked at me. He snorted then turned and unlocked the door.

  John handed him the package and some coin.

  “You have an hour. No more,” the old man told him.

  John nodded, took my hand, and then led me inside.

  “How very discourteous,” I whispered. I tried to think of a way to ask what was in the package, but finding none, I let the matter lie.

  John shrugged. “Age wears courtesy to the bone.”

  We passed from the outer chamber through the second set of doors into the herbarium. All at once, I was overcome with warmth and the moist air of summer. The smell of roses, water, grass, and sunshine on green leaves perfumed the space.

  I gasped. “It is summer captured in glass.” A butterfly passed by. I reached out, beckoning it to come to me, but it fluttered away.

  John smiled and removed his top hat and gloves, setting them on a bench just inside the door. “You have such a lovely mind. Others might say ‘it’s so charming’ whereas you find summer trapped in glass.”

  I giggled. “I almost said I felt trapped in a terrarium,” I said as I pushed my hood back and pulled off my gloves. “But I thought that might sound strange.”

  He chuckled. “May I take your coat?”

  I nodded then undid the fastens. I handed it to him. He draped the garment over his arm then motioned for me to follow.

  “I enjoyed your faerie godmother,” he told me as we made our way down the twisting path through the green. Palm trees and other wide leafy greens grew all around. “Were you not to play Persephone as well?”