by Sky Sommers
‘Personally, in the store, I was taking notes. I wouldn’t want to cross you, love. You’re scary when you’re angry.’
‘It’s just that the sheer naivete…’ I start when she cuts me off.
‘You have twenty years of experience on her, don’t you forget that. Maybe you had more drama than most by the age of eighteen, so has she. She just doesn’t remember all her drama and has been blessed to have a sense of normalcy growing up with you and Peter only as of late while she never had that with her mother or her GODmother, for that matter.’
‘Yes, Mellie and I, we are going to have words,’ I assure Loretta.
‘Really?’ she asks, grinning. ‘I wouldn’t miss that showdown for the world,’ Loretta says.
I shrug, ‘I’ll notify you of the date and time, if you like.’
‘Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll be watching over you anyway, I’ll know when to start taking notes. One suggestion. Before you talk to Mellie, talk to Grizelda,’ Loretta says.
‘Grizelda. Yes. If Grizelda hadn’t tattled, we would be in a very ‘Pride and Prejudice’ scenario.’ I say.
‘Ooh, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. I remember reading that,’ Loretta lights up. ‘I have so many books on my to be read list…’ she sounds wistful.
‘So that’s what you do in your spare time, you read?’ I ask.
She huffs, ‘So that’s what you do in your spare time, you godmother?’ Loretta shoots back at me.
‘Meaning?’
‘We’ve been over this. If you act like a fairy godmother…’
‘Not that again! I am not a character in a fairy-tale!’
‘How come fairy-tales improve around you then?’
‘Meaning?’
‘Well, that there could have gone horribly wrong, don’t you think? Instead, you swoop in and solve it all, without a wand, might I add,’ Loretta pats her pocket. ‘It’s almost like…magic.’
‘I am not magical. You should know better than anyone,’ I tell her. ‘You once told me that I don’t have a smidgen of magic in me.’
‘Yes, that’s why you were important for Earth at the time - as a guardian of magic. For Earth, and by proxy for all the other dimensions. It’s funny that you don’t believe in magic yourself. Despite evidence to the contrary,’ Loretta motioned the length of her and her wings.
‘Butterflies have wings. I never said I don’t believe in supernatural creatures from other dimensions. That is science fiction, which is kind of like magic. Except I know how it works. With magic you never know.’
Loretta pouts, ‘Well, in any case, I wasn’t surprised that you took so well to Magic Kingdom.’
‘I don’t feel a lot of magic in this Magic Kingdom of ours…’ I mumble. ‘What with dragons extinct long ago and the Warrior’s black market peddling technological inventions that even I recognise, what would I be guarding here?’
‘They are not extinct.’
‘What?’
‘The dragons. They are not extinct.’
‘What are you saying? That there are dragons somewhere here and everyone just fails to notice them?’
‘No. Not here. In the parallel of here. In a parallel Magic Kingdom and yes there are.’
‘What do you mean a parallel Magic Kingdom? Like a parallel universe?’
‘Yes.’
‘Wait…so there is a universe called the Magic Kingdom and there is a similar universe that is physically the same as this one, except it has magic and dragons?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Why what?’
‘Why is there magic in the parallel of here, but not here?’
Loretta nods. ‘The historical scrolls about this dimension mention that somewhere in the Magic Kingdom there was once a kingdom called Camelot that had a talking horse for a regent and that trade was done with dragons and the Warriors and there was a long time of peace. Now, there are no dragons left and the Warriors, a rather mysterious bunch, have set up their own kingdom. They can, too, with their advanced technology. I’ve always suspected they get it from other dimensions, but as a Watcher, I cannot see into their compound from my screens at the Agency. Which is very strange. But since they can take care of themselves and hardly need our help, the Agency isn’t worried. I guess the Watchers don’t watch over everything after all…’ The pixie muses.
‘They had a Camelot here? And dragons? Fancy that. So, there were magical creatures, but not anymore. Which magical creatures would I be guarding in this dimension then? Ella with her mind-reading powers? Hans and Greta with their unmanifested powers?’ I smirk.
Loretta nods, ‘The scrolls also mention a certain ring artifact and magic mirrors.’
‘Magic mirrors we might still have,’ I mumble, remembering my bedroom and hallway mirrors glitching on me. ‘Ella once got a tip from a witch that saved her doing her make-up in the mornings for two months. I think that might have been an artefact, but it could also have been a technical easy make-up kit similar to what Mila Jovovich had in The Fifth Element - you put it against your eyes and poof, instant make-up. Was I meant to confiscate it? What happened to the magical creatures and artefacts? Have the royals hoarded them all?’
Loretta shakes her head, ‘It seems they somehow all wandered over to the parallel of here.’
‘What do you mean wandered over?’
‘They used to be here and there were less of them there. Now they are all there. Wandered over. This dimension is now a Magic Kingdom with a lot less magic than it used to have.’
A thought strikes me and I have to ask, ‘Did the dragons leave before or after I got here?’
The pixie thinks about it, ‘The last one might have left straight after you arrived. Come to think of it, no new fairy tales with dragons in them have sprouted while you’ve been here. Why?’
‘Maybe it’s a coincidence, but since I don’t believe in magic, could I have…I don’t know…somehow contributed to the level of magical non-belief in this kingdom when I arrived?’
‘Do you mean that your presence tilted the scales somehow?’
‘Yes.’
Loretta looks deep in thought. ‘If good and evil are kept balanced at the Agency, why not magic across parallel dimensions?’
‘So, what you are saying is that my presence in this dimension has lessened the level of magic in it?’ I feel horrified.
‘Well, maybe if you don’t believe in magic wands and mirrors and potions and don’t use them, then they go somewhere where they are liked and used?’
‘The magical things just leave? Of their own volition? How?’
‘By…’
‘Magic,’ we say in unison and I laugh.
‘Wait. Are you saying I’m bad for this dimension with all my realism and science-mindedness?’
Loretta eyes me and tilts her head, ‘No, I don’t think you are. Quite the contrary. Just like you took very well to this relocation, I think Magic Kingdom took very well to you, too. You’re shaping the stories by simply being in them.’
Hunh.
For a while we ride in silence.
‘Thank you for watching over me, Loretta. You didn’t have to,’ I say.
‘I guess fairy godmothers also need a little godmothering.’ She winks.
I roll my eyes.
‘You should still talk to Grizelda. I know they accused her of cannibalism, but did you know who it was who accused her? Your stepkids’ Godmother, that’s who. Despite her ties to Grizelda, might I add.’
What ties?
‘The old witch is not the villain everybody believes her to be. Go speak to her,’ Loretta suggests before evaporating on me in a purple cocoon of light.
Ella
Sunday, May 5th
I’m ruined!
Not because John’s ugly lech of a father ma
de a pass at me. Now I know who was at my door last night. Because people are talking and not in the ‘coming out to high society’ kind of way.
Thanks, Mellie!
When I broached the subject of changing hotels, John and his father looked at me funnily. Blushing crimson, I had to explain about last night. John’s father smirked and said he would have a very stern talk with the management of the hotel so the help would not skulk behind my door at night. He told me we couldn’t change hotels because this was the only hotel in Ailmsworth. I thought - well, at least he is taking things seriously. It wasn’t until later that I found out HE was the one who had been at my door and getting ‘the help’ to stay away was his way of making sure he would not be disturbed!
And John… I believed him when he told me about the introductions and marriage and…oh, what I fool I’ve been, believing every word. I believe he told his father about everything that had transpired between us. Did John mean for all of this to happen? Did he mean to feed me to his father? Did he want to leave me publicly disgraced as payback for daring to threaten him when we…when he...
Am I that unworthy of love that a lecherous old man would pursue me, thinking I am fair game after his son had rejected me? Twice!
I’ll start at the beginning.
Yesterday we did nothing but walk along the seaside and have a merry old time. In public. Except nobody introduced me to anybody as John’s fiancee. John himself behaved atrociously. He tried sitting closer to me and stretching his yawns, so he could put his arm on my shoulder. He also tried to put his hand on my waist when he thought his father wasn’t looking. For propriety, I cut his advances short by telling him I wasn’t that kind of girl and he’d better behave at least until his father approves of our union.
You know what he whispered to me? That I was that kind of girl, that we all are, we just don’t know it yet.
That didn’t sit well with me. I kept thinking - is that what he really thinks? I started doubting he’ll change after ‘I dos’. Who am I fooling? He’ll still chase women. Maybe even rekindle things with Betty.
That was a sobering thought. I think he sensed me pulling away and things were rather frosty between us for the rest of the day. I ate my dinner and went to bed.
I didn’t sleep a wink, keeping my lantern lit and while I did hear footsteps behind my door, nobody tried anything.
Today, seeing that John and I were on rather skimpy speaking terms, his father asked if we wanted to go shopping. John didn’t, but he wasn’t the one being asked. So we went.
How was I to know that the old lech would drag me into a lingerie boutique?
And how do I know he’s a lech?
He sent John off with an excuse of getting us all ice-cream. Then the old goat had the sales girl produce the skimpiest see-through lacy thing I’ve ever seen and told me and I quote: ‘If the bun’s already in the oven, nothing anyone will do can spoil the pie.’ I think my mouth must have fallen open. He proceeded with, ‘Come on, young lady, you are here as our guest and I have seen you wear skimpier things at the restaurant. GO PUT IT ON, BE A SPORT!’
Then and there I realised it had been John’s father at my door on Friday night. What if I hadn’t locked the door? John HAD told him about our…relations and the end result as well! The lech really did think he was entitled to ‘some fun’ as he put it.
OMG, was John in on this whole thing?!? Did he know all along that he had no interest in me and he was just passing me on to his father?!?
THAT’s what I get for being nice and helping out at that damned restaurant!
Old lecherous men propositioning me in my spare time!!!
I was so relieved when Grace showed up. I could have hugged her if she hadn’t looked murderous.
If Grace hadn’t been as angry as a hornet, she would have been…you know…kind of cool. Scary, but cool. She told that aristo where he could stuff his lingerie that only his whores would wear.
I’m sure we’ll never see John or his lech of a father at our restaurant ever again. Not after Grace threatened to poison them if they dare show up. The baron actually looked like he was afraid of her.
When John reappeared with ice-creams, he got an earful as well. He couldn’t apologise enough. He said he knew his father was a ladies’ man, but he didn’t know he was going to be THAT embarrassing. While Grace verbally eviscerated John’s father I kept thinking that John and his father are such...such...swine!
Grace dragged me outside, to a district of ill-repute to show me what my future would be like if she told Father all about my adventures. The ladies of the night looked friendly enough, wayyyyyy too friendly, considering we were women, but the sheer horror of Grace making it so that I was soon one of them made me want to pass out. The smell of that back-alley might also have had something to do with it.
She accused me of chasing John and of being easy and free with my affections and told me that there are proper ways to find a husband. Grace was aghast whyever did I think it was a good idea that a seaside trip with dubious men was proper. I almost snapped back that if she was so touchy-feely with the king, why haven’t we been to the palace even once for any of the balls and other society events so I COULD be properly introduced to someone dignified and suitable. But I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to bear the brunt of her wrath.
I was surprised she was that direct with me. She said exactly what she thought. Frankly, I’m getting used to her telling me things she is unhappy about rather than me having to pick her brain to suss out what she’s thinking.
Anyway.
Grace said lots of people saw me in Ailmsworth and are already gossipping about it. She said if a marriage to John does not ensue, there’ll be more talk. Grace asked me if I wanted to marry John and I could only shake my head ‘no’. Not after what he and his father had just done. Strangely, she looked relieved.
So I went to the seaside and ruined my reputation for nothing! Thanks, Mellie!
Before we headed home, Grace made me be nice to all the people in the market and say pleasant things to those I had spoken to or bought something from in the previous days. Apparently, that should help us trick them into believing that I was there on a buying trip, doing Grace’ bidding. Test-shopping she called it. The market folk would talk to the aristo’s servants and they would tell the aristos and everybody would believe I was there on Grace’s official business and not to be seduced.
Personally, I don’t think it will work, but I gave it a try. If I had refused, my reputation would be ruined for sure. If it works, there might still be hope.
We returned home and I was so upset and exhausted from the lack of sleep that I nodded off in the landau.
Chapter 16. The Witch
Grace
We made it home late, but still before Peter. The next day, Ella disappeared to her Godmother’s, whether it was despite everything or to have a shouting match, I don’t know.
Just as well, I’ll have a bit of time to reconnoitre and check if my story has taken root.
I take Henry along with his tiny wagon with me - just in case he gets tired - and head out.
First, I head for the butcher’s.
The local women look me up and down.
If I get scorn, Ella is a harlot.
If I get questions, our charade worked.
‘Mistress Goodall, back so soon? Happy with our goods and service, I hope,’ the butcher’s wife asks.
Good news travels fast.
I smile, ‘Oh, I am. You always have the freshest cuts and fair prices,’ I say and get a smile in return.
‘Unlike Ailmsworth?’ she asks, burying the hatchet into a sizeable side of something.
‘You’re the fairest of them all,’ I say and mean it.
She chuckles, ‘Clever, sending Ella ahead to find out how things work and who charges what, I bet nobody suspected a thing,’ she comments
and I nod.
Our story has worked.
Ella can still marry well.
‘You know, you gave me an idea to do something similar.’
‘Who will you be using as the shadow buyer?’ I enquire, out of politeness than real interest.
‘Is that what these sneaks are called?’ she chuckles. ‘Now I have never known you to gossip, but I’m sure you’ll understand if I won’t tell you.’
I nod, ‘Of course. Besides, you haven’t even had time to ask your would-be sneak just yet,’ I wink at her.
‘What’ll it be today?’ she asks.
‘Oh, what would you suggest?’ I ask, not needing anything.
I got everything I need already.
Buying something would be a simple courtesy.
After all of ten seconds of inspecting and choosing, I take the paper-wrapped tenderloin cuts and am on my merry way.
Just as I turn to leave, I see a familiar gypsy skirt darting round the corner of the butcher’s shop.
I sigh and head out back.
‘And here I thought you were doing so well,’ I say to Grizelda as she comes out of the back door.
For a second she freezes, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. ‘Heh-heh, you caught me, I guess…’ she tries to make light of it. ‘Hello, Henry.’
‘If you’re eating meat again, you know what this means…’ I shake my head.
She looks at me, hopeful against all hope.
‘You are hereby banned from the restaurant,’ I say.
Grizelda looks as if I’d slapped her. ‘No, please, don’t…’ she whispers.
‘How can I trust you to be around my children when you cannot keep to your vegetarian diet?’ I ask.
Once a cannibal, always a cannibal.
‘Please, it’s just once a week…’ she pleads.
‘First veal, who’s next? Hans? Or Greta?’ I keep interrogating. ‘Maybe your aversion to Henry’s smell was also just a charade?’
Grizelda’s shoulders sag, ‘I understand why everybody believes that story…I just thought you’d be different…’ she says. ‘I tried telling you before, but I guess you are just like the rest of them. Nobody listens! Or rather nobody listens to me…’ she mumbles.