Unspun

by Ruth Nickle

  “I understand,” Prince said, and she could hear nothing suspicious in his tone. “I wish you to have peace and protection because I could not always provide it for your predecessor. That may not ever require me to stand between you and danger, but I will find other ways to be a friend to you.”

  The quiet acquiescence was enough to bring the conflict to a neutral ground, where Lena could put her anger on hold. After a few more breaths, she took her seat once more and clasped her hands demurely in her lap.

  “I can’t decide tonight how involved we’ll be in each other’s lives, but I want my mom’s wish to come true. Will you visit me again soon?”

  “Whenever you request it.”

  That seemed to be too broad a statement, but Anna nodded in confirmation. “He came when your mother asked for him during treatments and was here a few nights before she died. He will stay away as long as you command, but he will respond immediately when you need him. Everyone with this inheritance has learned that at one time or another.”

  That was probably meant to be reassuring, but it only reinforced the fact that Lena had lost many opportunities to understand her mother. It caused a phantom echo of painful guilt that was becoming too familiar for her emotional well-being.

  “You are not the first of your family to negotiate the terms of this friendship,” Prince said when Lena had no response, “and in the decades of our alliance, no one has had cause to regret the friendship. I do not believe you will be the exception to that rule.”

  “Then can we start there?” She lifted her eyes from her lap and held his gaze for a few moments. “I’m not ready for a comrade-in-arms and I don’t know that I want a protector, but I could use a friend right now.”

  “If that is all you will ever require of me, it will still be my honor to fulfill that role,” he said as though taking an oath of fealty. “Perhaps we could meet here again?”

  Lena couldn’t exactly ask that he drop by with a therapeutic pizza every Friday, but she could agree to a periodic check-in.

  “I will be returning to school next week,” she said. “Can I ask that you visit on Saturday after Shabbat ends? How would I even do that?”

  An expression crossed the prince’s face that almost looked like displeasure to Lena, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “I think you would be more comfortable meeting me here, don’t you think? Call out to me for help in any fashion and I will come.”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to come back here to meet him again instead of just meeting back at school, but she figured she could deal with that question later. If she called to him from elsewhere, and he didn’t come—well, that would be his loss, not hers. She also wasn’t sure what to do with a mythical knight in shining armor, but this was a peace offering in her mother’s memory, and she could play it by ear for Mom’s sake.

  “I look forward to it.”

  * * *

  By Saturday night, Lena was absolutely certain that any meeting with Prince would have to be on her own terms. She thought it bad form to invite a strange man into her apartment without giving her roommate some kind of explanation, so evening found her on a park bench with her talisman stowed in the backpack pocket normally reserved for a water bottle. Mom would have probably disapproved, but it was more inconspicuous than carrying him around like a favorite teddy bear.

  Once she had verified that she was quite alone, she set the nutcracker on the bench next to her. There was no set phrase; he could come whenever invoked, but tradition seemed to mandate that she say something more formal than “Get over here, would you?”

  “It would be my honor to meet with you, Prince.”

  It was something of a relief when he materialized, not in a puff of smoke or shimmering of light, but as an ordinary-looking pedestrian approaching from the nearest footpath.

  “It would be my honor to meet with you, Lena,” he said. “May I sit?”

  “Of course.”

  As soon as she moved the nutcracker serving as a placeholder on the bench, he sat with unusual grace and let a broad smile unfurl on his lips.

  “The kingdom sends its regards.” He produced a box from the folds of his military-style jacket. “It also entrusted me with the latest delivery.”

  The box was nearly identical to the one that Anna had received, and the smell was just as enticing, but she felt a frown forming. “What is it with you and sugar plums?”

  That drew a chuckle from him. “It is not by my choice,” he assured her. “Your family has made many friends in my kingdom over the generations, but your great-grandmother caught the interest of a young nobleman. Though the courtship was unconventional, it was a delight to witness. I supported the union, but it was not my place to give my blessing. That belonged to one of my most trusted advisors.”

  Was he saying what she thought he was? That she had some sort of fairy blood? It had been more of a shock to discover that the family trinket was her personal bodyguard, but it still took a moment to decide if this was distressing news. As far as Lena knew, there hadn’t been any ill effects, but she couldn’t think of a single benefit she’d reaped. It didn’t give them immortality or long life; Mom was proof of that.

  Pushing that aside, she glanced back at the box clutched in her hands. “But that doesn’t have anything to do with . . . ”

  “The nobleman’s mother has been my right-hand fairy for many years, and her principality is known for its—”

  “Sugar plums,” was Lena’s guess.

  “Precisely.” He nodded to the box. “When her son chose this world, she began sending these as a reminder of her love for your family.”

  No matter what the nobleman’s choice, she was at least part fairy and that raised as many questions as it answered. Why she didn’t have supernatural powers or a summer home in the fairy kingdom, for example. She remembered the man in question from her very early childhood, but other than the fact that he had lived to the age of ninety-eight, she couldn’t think of any other remarkable things about him.

  “Should I be sending something back?”

  “That is not necessary.”

  She tried a sugar plum, since the previous package had stayed, untouched, in Anna’s possession, and found the candy to be rich, but somehow insubstantial. Her preferred junk food was a Symphony bar, but she wouldn’t turn up her nose at anything of this caliber.

  “Do you like them?” he asked, with a twinge of apprehension in his voice.

  It was doubtful that Hershey’s had a factory anywhere in a fairytale kingdom. This would have to be something she enjoyed on principle, like her paternal grandmother’s corn chowder.

  “I can’t say I have much experience,” she said, “but I suppose they’re not the only thing about our friendship that is an acquired taste.”

  As if consciously trying to put her on more familiar ground, he asked a very parental question next: “How was your return to school?”

  She had gotten through the week by taking class notes on autopilot and politely declining social invitations. She had woken up crying every night and found that her roommate had sympathetically taken over all of her usual chores. Under other circumstances, she would have resented the babying, but it felt oddly comforting to be left in someone else’s care.

  “It’s been hard,” Lena said. “I’m not expecting much of myself for a few days, and my professors have discovered their ability to have flexible deadlines. I don’t know how long either of those things will last, but it’s a first step.”

  “As is our meeting,” he responded. “I am sorry for your troubles and would like to propose a course of action.”

  He was a prince and probably used to being hearkened to without questions. Lena, however, wasn’t his subject or beholden to him.

  “You hardly know me and you want to tell me what to do?”

  The question came out in a less challenging tone th
an she had intended, but at the implied offense, his grin faded somewhat. “You did call upon me. In light of your recent bereavement and current challenges, I would like to discuss how our encounters might be of service to you. Your compliance is strictly voluntary.”

  “All right.” She waved a hand. “Propose away.”

  He glanced at the nutcracker still clutched in her lap, then met her gaze. “I understand that in your faith, ethical wills are often passed on.”

  His unexplained knowledge of a somewhat old-fashioned Jewish tradition was nearly as much of a surprise as the news of her fairy ancestry. “Y-y-yes,” she stammered. “People hand down wisdom and philosophies that they have lived by in hopes that the next generation will learn from those things as well.”

  He nodded. “Your mother did not leave such a document, but she left you the emblem of our alliance,” he said. “I believe she would desire for you to take advantage of the protection that I may be able to provide you. Her wisdom was in choosing the battles that felt most important. Perhaps you may consider if battling against your family legacy is as important to you as finding a way to have peace through your grief.” He paused before continuing cautiously. “You might think it presumptuous, but I would like to be of service to you.”

  She still wasn’t sure if she wanted any kind of long-term relationship with this man, but she was sure that she still needed to rely on her mother’s advice.

  “I suppose we could try that,” she agreed. “Can I still reserve the right to call off the alliance?”

  “That is your right,” Prince said, “but I hope our meetings will not reinforce your desire to have nothing to do with me.”

  “I hope so, too,” Lena said without hesitation this time.

  They parted ways half an hour later, Lena tucking the nutcracker back into her bag while its counterpart retreated down the path. She glanced up in time to see a shadow detaching itself from a tree and falling into step with her new ally. A few paces later, another shadowy figure did the same, and by the time he rounded the bend, he was accompanied by six others.

  Spies, she thought first. Or maybe guards? Is he afraid of me or is this standard procedure for everyone?

  She immediately reached for the zipper pull again, intending to call him back and ask for an explanation. After a moment, she decided to provide him the chance to come clean and introduce her to his friends at the next opportunity.

  * * *

  His next visit was no different, though. He arrived by the same footpath and picked up his Fairy Secret Service or whatever they were at the end of their time together. He made no mention of it and for all she knew, he didn’t think her able to see them.

  On the third visit, however, she blocked his access to the bench as soon as he appeared. “Should I get some chairs for your friends?”

  Prince didn’t look surprised by her question, but frowned thoughtfully. “They would prefer to stay at their posts,” he said. “It is prudent to establish a defensive perimeter at some distance.”

  “Defensive perimeter?” Lena echoed quietly.

  “In case of an attack,” he clarified.

  “So, they really think I’m a threat to you?” She had a yellow belt in tae kwon do and a smart mouth, but this was a man who, according to the book and ballet, had led an army in defense of her ancestral home. His statement was laughable, but acting on that impression would be offensive.

  “You?” This time he arched an eyebrow and cocked his head to one side. “Why would they think that?”

  “You just said they’re here in case of an attack.”

  “Yes,” Prince said. “It is only natural for them to guard an ally of the kingdom, so they will keep an eye out for any adversaries.”

  Lena glanced at the usual positions of the guards, but they were still hidden from view. For all she knew, magic had a hand in that, but his disclosure of their purpose explained nothing about their presence.

  “I don’t get it,” she admitted. “Why all the secrecy?”

  “It was for your comfort.” He inclined his head deferentially. “If you prefer, I can conceal them more effectively.”

  “But you won’t ask them to leave?”

  “No. There is every chance that they will be needed.”

  “But they weren’t there at the house.” She hadn’t recognized every visitor, but she would have almost certainly noticed such furtive figures.

  The prince went still for a moment. “At the house?”

  “Yes, you know, at the house—where we met before. Is this campus really more dangerous than my hometown?”

  Prince shook his head slowly. “The risks are the same,” he said, “but you are correct that they were not at your house.”

  “Then why—”

  “And nor was I.”

  That sentence cut all sound from the world for a moment. After a moment, her pulse began pounding in her ears and the wind picked up, but her mind remained blank.

  “But you came,” she protested. “You showed up and brought sugar plums. Anna can back me up on this.”

  His expression turned grave and his shoulders sank a few inches. “Let us sit down.”

  At the sound of words that almost always preceded disaster, the pounding of her heartbeat struck up a duet with a ringing in her ears. “As long as you promise to tell me the truth,” she said.

  “I always have spoken the truth to your family,” he responded solemnly, “and I intend to continue to earn your trust.”

  No sooner had he sat than she felt the urge to be on the move. The only force that drove away the sudden fear was restlessness, and she paced the length of the bench four times before feeling settled enough to ask the next vital question.

  “What do you mean, ‘Nor was I’?”

  “I mean,” Prince said, “that you and I first met in this park. I have not entered your house since the days when your mother was alive, and I blame myself for that.”

  “I sat with you in my house,” Lena blurted out. “Who was that if not you?”

  “If my suspicions are correct, it was a sorcerer who changes his form as often as he changes his clothes,” he answered.

  If that was true, Lena couldn’t be sure who she’d been meeting with; she had been duped at least once. Immediately, her mind stoked an ember of fear into a flame.

  “If that wasn’t you, how did he do such a convincing impression?” She hadn’t met him before, but she hadn’t been the imposter’s only audience. “He had Anna convinced.”

  That earned her a somewhat apologetic frown. “I must hazard a guess, but it may be that it is partially my fault that he was able to do so. Your mother would have said he did his homework,” Prince said. “He must have been watching and waiting for the right moment and with his long association with your household, he must have learned a great deal. When he lacked information, he could avoid giving a direct answer. The sorcerer who has long been my enemy was always very fond of half-truths.”

  Apparently, it was not time for her heartbeat to resume its normal pace. She couldn’t fix generations of danger with a bit of healthy anger, but she could start doing damage control on her present circumstances and that required a greater understanding of her enemy.

  “Does he ever take the form of Anna?” she demanded shrilly.

  “As far as I know, he has never been able to assume the form of someone within your family,” Prince murmured in a tone that might have been soothing under other circumstances, “but he apparently dared to take my form. No doubt he hoped you would prefer him to me once the truth was revealed.”

  “I don’t prefer one of you over the other, but it seems I can’t trust myself to know the difference.”

  He stood at attention then while she assumed a defensive stance. “If you can do no more than trust your mother’s judgment, I will learn to be content with that,” he said
. “I, like my compatriots, only wish to provide you protection.”

  So far, he had been unable to do that by his own admission. The defensive perimeter was now like a fire extinguisher being aimed at a pile of ashes, but he still hadn’t put the danger into words.

  “Against what?”

  “Against whom. I blame myself because he was once one of us and I thought him long dead. Had I not been so arrogant, he would have never contacted you or your aunt and he would have never been permitted to begin overpowering your household. I knew him as a dissident in my kingdom, but Marie knew him as the Mouse King.”

  * * *

  Now that they knew the Mouse King had tried to approach Lena, the prince and his guards had all sorts of safety regulations. They began with “I will only visit when invited” and included “Do not let anyone cast a charm within your residence.” Lena asked questions about the Mouse King’s longevity and powers until she ran out of ideas, but began the next visit by challenging his impression that the King was a current danger to Lena herself.

  “He has already found a way to insinuate himself into your life,” Prince answered without hesitation, “and if he successfully enters into your existence, he will come to have control over your actions and perhaps, with time, even your thoughts.”

  “I wouldn’t let that happen.” She had trusted the imposter because there were no alternatives, but now she had enough reason to stay on alert. “I would know better.”

  “He would let you think so, but he is far from a novice at this kind of manipulation,” Prince replied. “He did not attempt anything more than talking you into an alliance because you might have recognized anything more as a danger, but do not believe that he would be willing to stop at that. The only absolute safeguard is to cut off contact with him altogether.”

  They ended that visit by agreeing that Anna had to be told and the house had to be magically sealed off.

  “It’s for your protection,” Prince said over dinner at the student union in October. “On the only known occasion that the Mouse King has come in contact with you, it has been on that property and by the invitation of someone in your family. He is already bound—”