An Unnatural Beanstalk

by Brittany Fichter

  Eva stared at him. So many emotions crashed through her. Relief was the most overwhelming, and threatened to make her break down in tears again. Anger at his secrecy was simmering just beneath the relief, for all the unnecessary heartache she’d endured over the last few days. Joy that made her want to giggle foolishly.

  Out of her eye, Eva noticed the duke reach into his coat. The king’s men had already bound his wrists together, but they’d forgotten to bind his hands behind his back. Eva darted forward, knocking the duke to the ground. The little ball he’d shown her weeks before rolled from his hand. Eva scrambled to reach it, but the duke grabbed her ankle.

  The king’s men were on him in seconds, but from the duke’s smile, Eva knew he had planned it this way.

  “Jack!” she screamed, forgetting his real name as the ball rolled to Phillip’s feet. “Don’t touch it!”

  “Let me go!” The duke’s voice rose to a hysterical pitch. “Or I’ll—”

  Before the duke could finish whatever threat he was making, the sky shimmered, and a bang filled the air. To Eva’s surprise, Mortimer appeared. He waved his hand at the duke, and a clump of dirt flew into the air and came down around the ball, burying it completely.

  Eva looked at Mortimer in awe. He just grimaced back.

  “Don’t start thinking this is a common occurrence. I expect things to be the way between us that they were before, understand?”

  Eva nodded and smiled. “I have just one request first.”

  He sighed dramatically. “And that would be?”

  “I want this magic gone. Gone from me and my music. I want to be the way I was before.”

  He looked down at her as though she were dense. “But it is gone.”

  “What?”

  Mortimer looked up at the beanstalks rising into the clouds. “You used it all on them.”

  “You mean . . .” She looked down at her hands and then the harp. “I’m not cursed anymore?”

  He scowled. “You’re no longer fairy-blessed, if that’s what you mean. But don’t ask for another gift ever again. I’m done with you, you hear?” He scratched his ear. “Your younger sister . . . the rotten one—”

  “Sophie?”

  “The wicked one, yes, has summoned me every day since you were gone and yelled about my ‘irresponsibility’ and all sorts of other mean things.” He frowned at Eva. “I expect her to be the first one you notify when this whole thing is over. Understand?”

  Eva grinned up at him. “Of course.” She had thought he had a change of heart about his gift to her, but now she was wondering if all of his apparent repentance had merely been due to Sophie’s harassment.

  With that, Mortimer nodded once and then disappeared with a puff of smoke. Eva ran over to Jack and threw her arms around him, but before she could exclaim over her joy, the duke cleared his throat loudly. Everyone turned to look at him.

  “This fellow here might have been saved by a technicality,” he said, “but the life of the stranger is still in peril.” He straightened as well as he could, despite the extra chains that had been put on his wrists. “You haven’t wed the duke. And unless you do so now, someone will be dead by morning.”

  Eva felt nauseous. She had forgotten the other half of the contract. They had been so close to a perfect ending. And yet, she would still have to marry the duke.

  “Keep it up, and you’ll be dead by morning.” Jack . . . or Phillip, rather, began to roll his sleeves up, but he was waved off by the king.

  “As unfortunate as my cousin’s scheming is,” he said, cracking his knuckles, “I believe I have a way to fix this.” He looked at Eva then Phillip. “The question is whether or not you two are willing to make the sacrifice in order to save the . . .” He looked back down at the parchment. “The life of whomever this unfortunate curse targets.”

  “What do you mean?” Phillip asked.

  “By law, my cousin’s actions have caused him to forfeit his title and property. And as he has no close family, I have the right to give said title and property to whomever I want.”

  Eva’s heart gave an uneven beat. Was she hearing him correctly?

  “I don’t know either of you from the next person, but your actions today have proved the depth of your characters. Enough, at least, to satisfy me that your best interests are with that of the kingdom. So if you,” the king turned to Phillip, “are willing to accept the title of duke and all the responsibilities that go with it, I’ll name you duke here and now.” He turned to Eva. “Unless, of course, there is another soul you would rather name duke and wed.”

  Eva’s mouth suddenly felt dry. The king had just offered the duke’s title to Jack . . . Phillip. And in doing such, he had offered them both not only a life together, but one of responsibility and wealth. They would never want for anything. Jack could escape his mother’s clutches with his brothers, and Eva could be with the man she loved.

  But that was all dependent on him. What if he didn’t want to marry her? She’d been cruel when she’d sent him away. And now that his deal with Mortimer was off, he no longer had a responsibility to help her. Besides, he’d wanted to be a schoolmaster. He’d poked fun at most of the duke’s noble friends whenever they’d come to visit, and now the king was asking him to not only be nobility, but also be first in line for the throne?

  As she worried, staring at the ground, two rough hands took hold of hers and held them still. When she couldn’t bring herself to look up, one of those hands moved to her chin and gently lifted her face. She found herself staring into his storm cloud–gray eyes.

  And to her surprise, they looked terrified.

  “I don’t know what you had planned for your life after that winter ball,” Phillip said softly, “but I know it wasn’t this.”

  Eva let out what sounded like a strangled chuckle, odd even to her own ears.

  “I know I’m just a farm boy, and you of all people know the kind of habits I need to break. But being with you this past month has made me want a life I never even knew existed.” He paused to take a deep breath. Eva could barely bring herself to breathe as he took a small step closer. The heat from his hands traveled up her arms and across her face, making her blush as he continued to speak.

  “This is your choice, though. I don’t want anyone to ever force you into a certain life again, not the way he did.” His voice softened as he ran his fingers along her jaw. “You’ve seen my good and my bad, much more than I wish you had. But if you’ll have me, I’ll be yours forever.” Slowly, he dropped down on one knee.

  “Eva . . . will you marry me?”

  Before she knew what she was doing, Eva had thrown herself into Phillip’s arms. And before she could say yes, he was kissing her. His lips melted against hers, and the way he enfolded her in his thick arms, nearly crushing her to his chest, was intoxicating. As one of his hands moved down to the small of her back and the other one cradled her face, she was vaguely aware of the king’s laughter, but her thoughts were too abuzz to care.

  Phillip was hers.

  She had taken a chance.

  She had lived.

  The duke had been defeated.

  And she would never hide again.

  Epilogue

  We Choose Love

  Dear Rynn,

  I’m sorry I wasn’t able to send this sooner, but tracking you down has been more difficult than I thought. Hopefully this arrives before the cold weather, but if not, I suppose you can always guess what’s gone on after.

  Oh, how I’ve missed you. In all the time we spent talking at night, imagining what our lives would look like one day, I never pictured a future without you there by my side, telling me what you thought of my groom long before he was that. I especially didn’t imagine a future where you were absent from my wedding. But so goes life, I suppose.

  You would have hated my wedding gown. It was poofy everywhere but the sleeves, and I probably looked like an over-frosted pastry. I have to say, however, that I’m more fond of it than I thought I
would be. And Jack Phillip was as handsome as ever in his farmer’s clothes.

  You would like that about him. Actually, I think you would like a lot about him, possibly because in many ways, he reminds me of you. He dislikes pretenses, and just as you predicted about my future husband, he doesn’t care a lick about my height. In truth, he’s only an inch or so taller than me. But really, it’s quite nice, as I always thought my height might end my chance at romance before it ever began.

  I’m not sure where you’ll be when you get this letter, but if you hear of the Duke and Duchess of Guthward and any awkward situations they might cause, be kind. Mother trained me for many things, but to be a duchess was never one of them. After we were married, the king even let on with a gleam in his eye that we should take care of any children we have.

  “You never know if they might end up as kings or queens one day,” he said with a grin. I’m still under the impression that he will one day find a woman to tame his wild ways, but Jack Phillip isn’t so sure. He says the king is as in love with adventure, according to the local gossip, as any man ever was with a woman. Sure, he’s dabbled in love and even proposed several times, but no woman would ever put up with his eternal wandering. Time will tell, I suppose.

  In the meantime, we’re back in Astoria. Father found us an adorable little cottage just outside the market. The king agreed to allow a kindly baron and his wife to live in the duke’s mansion and carry out his responsibilities while Jack Phillip attends the university here. He has always wished to continue his learning, and while the king insisted that he take classes in economics, politics, and agriculture, the duke’s estate will also allow us to afford classes in education for children, which is what Jack Phillip has always dreamed of doing.

  I will admit some concern about his mother. I had the unpleasant pleasure of meeting her soon after we arrived in Astoria (another story for another day), and I hope I never have to again. She’s even worse than he made her sound. Thankfully, his brothers have been moved to the duke’s mansion, where the head housekeeper has taken to spoiling them rotten. And while his mother was greatly displeased with this, the king allowed them to be removed for Jack’s Phillip’s concern that they’ll not be fed and looked after properly without him. He offered to send money to pay for workers until she’s able to get the farm producing again, but she’s not content to let her son grow rich without her. I get the feeling I shall have to learn to be rather fierce with her. The good news is that she acts enough like a small child that I can pretend she is one and then treat her as such without remorse. While I’m still learning to create boundaries with adults, naughty children I have no qualms with rebuking. And she is indeed much like a naughty, pouty, spoiled little girl.

  Is it terribly awful of me to find it quite funny that Mortimer forgot to remove the rabid cat he placed on their farm to protect them? No, don’t answer that.

  His mother aside, I shall be taking up my harp again. I was kindly given another invitation to play at the Winter Ball this year, and as I apparently broke Mortimer’s spell, I have enjoyed playing more than ever. (Although, there are days when I could swear the plants outside my window are a few inches taller after I’ve played. The servants say I’m not the only one who notices it, either.) I’m also teaching myself flute, lyre, and the violin, and while Jack Phillip (I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to that) is in school, I shall be teaching music to several children in the neighborhood as well. We don’t need the money now, I suppose, but I detest the idea of sitting still like a glass doll on display all day.

  King Eston, as much as he despises magic in general, hired several well-known professors of magic from the university to help him understand the duke’s plans. While I was under his thumb, the duke forced me to play music on two different harps twice a day, music to grow plants in the morning and music to kill them at night. Apparently, he had positioned the harps that he forced me to use so that the one I played in the morning would grow his crops. The one I played at night was positioned so it echoed off the mountain and overshot his fields, hitting the vast majority of the rest of Guthward. That my magic was not only able to exist with the thick red clay of Guthward’s soil but also affect the whole kingdom is a testament to just how strong Mortimer’s magic was that he gifted me with. I can only assume it was another one of his experiments.

  The professors also said that the magic baubles the duke liked to keep around the house, and the contract he created to threaten Jack Phillip with, were purchased in other kingdoms and would have been much stronger had he not been in Guthward. One of the professors of magic said since I used pure emotion to break the spell, I must have been feeling rather strongly about the duke and his plans.

  Apparently, he’s never heard one of the duke’s love songs.

  Anyhow, in using me to starve the rest of the kingdom and speed the growth of his own crops, the duke planned to move in and prove his qualification to be king by ending the famine using magic. My magic. He was very close to succeeding, too, as many of the nobles had been ready to vote for him rather than give confidence to the king. His games seem to have bitten him in the behind, however, as he is now in prison and no longer a duke, and the king’s authority is more respected than ever. Also, much of the kingdom is as suspicious of magic now as the king ever was.

  From what we can gather, after finding out about Mortimer’s gift, the duke searched for any family we might have in Guthward. Sure enough, he found Tamra. Tamra had no qualms about selling me out. Even after I was kidnapped, she was charged by the duke with keeping Mother, Father, and everyone else looking in the wrong places and feeding them bad information. And while I know the two of you were never close, don’t try sending her correspondence any time soon. She’s in prison, now, as well. JackPhillip and I will be caring for her children for the time being, which we are quite delighted about.

  You’ll be proud to know that I’ve finally discovered what it means to live. As soon as I’d been reunited with our family, I promptly ordered another version of the dress I gave away. But this time, it’s red. Unfortunately, or fortunately, however you decide to look at it, I won’t be wearing the dress any time soon, though. Being with child makes everyday clothes rather tight, or so I’ve been told. I suppose I shall find out, as Phillip (I finally got it!) and I will be welcoming our first baby into the world sometime next summer. Hopefully, you won’t be too far away by then, as I want this baby and his or her auntie to be very well acquainted.

  To be honest, living as a duchess and very possibly a queen was never the way I envisioned the future. But I’ve found that I’m more than at peace with this new life. I’m loving it. From the time I wake up in the morning to when I lay down my head, it seems life never slows but instead continues to speed by. And yet I’m finding great joy even in the little everyday details. And while we can’t say what will happen in the future, we’re hoping to open the ducal mansion one day as a house for orphans. Jack (Oh fiddlesticks, I did it again) Phillip can teach them reading and sums when he’s not managing the estate, and I can teach them music and tuck them all into bed at night.

  You worried once that I would never find a man worthy of me (which was a silly worry if I ever heard one). You would love my husband. He’s everything I ever dreamed of and more. He’s stubborn and kind and always keeping an eye out for those around him. Again, he reminds me so much of you, it’s probably why I love him so. Ever since I told him about the baby, he’s been worried sick about me. I’m not allowed to so much as move a footstool across the room, even though I’m not even showing yet.

  Of course, he has some rather irksome habits, such as chewing with his mouth open and falling onto the bed without removing his boots. But we all have our faults, I suppose, and he is a good man. Such a good man.

  My other main concern is Sophie. Since we’ve finally gotten locations sorted out, I’ve been talking with Mother and Father again, and it appears that Father has it in his mind that Sophie would be better off married young to a fa
rmer or in his words, “a fellow of stable employment.” I can only hope Sophie doesn’t do something rash.

  Oh dear. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that Sophie’s going to do something rash.

  Well, before I worry myself to death, I’ll end by putting your former worries to rest at least. Phillip and I haven’t known one another for very long, but we made an agreement the first night of our marriage that we were going to choose love. Through hard times and high times, we will choose mercy and hope and love. But most importantly we choose love. Because when the world seems to take away every other choice in our life and tries to convince us that all is lost, we can always choose love.

  I miss you more than you can know. Come home as soon as you can, and take care with your travels. Until then, however, you always have my heart.

  Love,

  Eva

  Entwined Tales continues with Sophie’s story

  A Bear’s Bride: A Retelling of East of the Sun, West of the Moon by Shari L. Tapscott.

  Tap here to view the book on Amazon…

  Don't judge a prince by his fur.

  After her father threatens to marry her to a dull farmer, free-spirited Sophie runs away from the only home she’s ever known and sets off into the world, seeking adventure and romance. But instead of excitement, she finds a forlorn castle and the solitary prince who lives there.

  For twenty years, Henri has been shrouded in mystery and speculation. He’s a legend, a nightmare, a blight upon his fair kingdom. Though Sophie knows it would be wiser to return home, she’s inexplicably drawn to the man of shadows.

  But it doesn’t take Sophie long to realize that falling for the cursed prince might prove to be more of an adventure than she ever bargained for…