by Jack Heckel
“Codswollop!” shouted Liz.
Will rubbed his temples and braced himself.
Liz faced her brother and he could see that she had barely restrained herself from shaking a scolding finger at him. “There is no judgment to be made against Edward, because . . . well, because he . . . he has changed. I will admit that when I first met Edward, he was a shallow, conceited man who thought only of women and wine and song and horses and—”
Will took pity on Charming, who was flinching at every word, and said, “Your point, Liz.”
She frowned. “Yes, well, my point is that he has changed. I won’t go so far as to say that he is humble. I mean, it is shocking how much time he spends on his hair in the morning, and his penchant for bursting into verse is maniacal, but—”
Will closed his eyes and put up a hand to silence her. “You were explaining how Charming had changed, Liz.”
She thinned her lips at him for the interruption, but then her eyes fell on Charming and her face softened. “Yes, I was.” She drifted down the stairs to stand next to him. He looked at her with an ashen face. “I believe Edward has become a man that I can be proud of, and if you cast a judgment against him, then you are casting it against me as well.” With this, she grasped his hand in hers.
Will and Rupert looked at the two of them with wide eyes. “Wait, you mean you . . . and Charming?” Will asked incredulously. “And, Charming, do you return my sister’s affection?”
The crowd murmured and Liz blushed, but Charming raised his chin and looked up at Will in his high throne. “Yes, Your Majesty. I love Lady Elizabeth with all my heart, and have from the moment I first saw her.”
Charming looked at Liz and smiled lovingly, but his eyes were full of regret. He pulled his hand from hers. “However, I know that I am unworthy of her, and, if our positions were exchanged, I would deny her to me without hesitation.”
Liz opened her mouth to say something, but Charming did not give her the chance, instead he fell to his knees. “So, I do not ask for your approval, or for her hand. All I ask . . . no, all I beg is that you let me put the question to her. If she says no, then I will leave this castle and kingdom forever.”
“And if she says yes?” Will asked.
“Then nothing else that happens will matter,” he said quietly. “I will be content.”
Will turned to Liz, who returned his gaze with a tight, thin-lipped smile. Will gulped. “Um . . . well, Charming, if you know my sister at all, then you know that I would never presume to answer for her. Liz?”
“Your Majesty, you should know that I do . . . do love Edward Charming, and have already promised him my hand.”
“You did?” both Will and Charming said together.
“Yes,” she said defensively, “I did.”
Rupert looked down at his son and Liz, shaking his head and said gravely, “But, Your Majesty, this cannot be allowed.” Both Gwen and Liz started to say something, but he raised his hand to stop them. “This is not a question of honor, a subject, I am understanding more and more, that I am ill-equipped to make any opinions on, in any case. No, it is a question of the law. I regret to say, Your Majesty, that the law states that the sister or daughter of the King must marry a landed man of title. Edward has neither, and the power to grant either is now beyond me.”
Will grinned at Liz and Charming. “A problem easily fixed. What is the point of being king if you can’t hand out land and title?”
He rose and walked down to where the couple stood. “Edward Michael Charming,” he began, tapping the golden key on his right shoulder first, “I dub thee Lord Protector Edward Michael Charming,” he tapped his left shoulder, “and charge thee with defending the subjects of this kingdom and this court against all threats internal and external, and of course making my sister happy.” He tapped his right shoulder again.
There was a warm huzzah from the crowd as Charming stood next to Liz. They clasped hands. “Thank you,” Charming said. “I don’t deserve it.”
“Maybe not,” Will said with a sly grin and then, seeing the sharp glance from Liz, quickly added, “but my sister thinks so, and as you will soon learn, her rule is always final.”
Will hurried on to the next topic. “Now, as for the land—”
A gruff voice rose from the back of the room. “They can have our place.” Grady marched forward with five of the other dwarves behind him. The audience in the chapel all turned to look.
Liz looked at the dwarf. “What are you doing here?”
“Nice to see you too, Lady Pickett,” he growled.
“What about the guards?” she persisted.
He waved dismissively. “Oh, those guys? Sloane is watching them.”
“Sloane?” Liz shouted. “But he’s a narcoleptic.”
“He’ll be fine,” Grady said.
Dorian smiled and said, “Yes, he’s a very light sleeper.”
Will looked between the six little men and Charming and his sister in confusion. “I’m sure there’s an explanation”—Liz started to speak and he waved it off—“but I don’t want to hear it. Now, what is this about a place for them to live?”
“We’re going on the road,” Dorian said, “so they can have our cottage, if they want.”
“Well, that changes everything,” Will said. “In that case, I see no impediment to this union.”
“But, Your Majesty,” Rupert started.
“Are you still protesting this marriage, Lord Rupert?” Will asked with a hint of irritation.
“No, no, Your Majesty,” he said. “But you are a wealthy man, and this is your sister. You could give her an estate that befits her station, a manor house, a small castle, perhaps a tower with some land.”
The idea seemed to strike Will by surprise, and he grew silent and thoughtful and began unconsciously to chew at the side of his finger.
“Your Majesty?” Rupert asked after a time.
“Yes . . . yes . . .” he said haltingly. “My sister shall have whatever she desires.”
“I desire the cottage,” she said. “I don’t want a manor house to run, or, forbid the thought, a castle.” She shuddered. “All I want is a quiet place in the woods where Edward and I can be together.”
Will nodded. “If, dear sister, you are satisfied, then so am I.” He turned to Rupert. “Any additional business that I must attend?”
“None, Your Majesty, except that I wish to say something to my son, if it is permitted.” Will waved him on, feeling a little uncomfortable that the man had thought the need to ask permission, and wondering what other bizarre new rituals he was going to have to be responsible for.
Rupert turned to Charming. “Edward, I am . . . I am very happy for you, and very proud.”
Charming, for once in his life, was speechless and said nothing, but his eyes grew shiny with emotion.
Will coughed to draw the court’s attention away from Charming, who clearly needed time to compose himself. An idea struck him. “Lord Rupert, you have very decided opinions on what is proper for a king to do.”
Rupert’s face paled at the suggestion that he might have overstepped propriety, and he threw himself down onto one knee. “Your Majesty, I apologize for my behavior today, it was inexcusable. I have no right to question your judgment or authority, and I submit myself to your will.”
Will beckoned him to rise. “Your actions may be inexcusable, but I will excuse them anyway. It is my hope that you will do me the honor of being my advisor and steward, and of second-guessing me for as long as I remain on the throne.”
Rupert raised his eyes and gasped something incoherent.
“Is that a yes?”
He placed a palm across his chest. “It would be my deepest honor to serve you, Your Majesty.”
“Excellent,” Will said, as he climbed back up the stairs to the throne with Rupert a
t his heels. Then lower, he added, “Now, come stand on my right and make sure I don’t do anything hideously idiotic. For instance, I’m at a loss as to what I should do now?”
Rupert whispered discreetly, “I think your guests are getting restless, My Liege. If the court business is done, you should dismiss them.”
“Ahhh, but it is not,” Will said with a twinkle in his eyes.
He stood and, gesturing broadly about the chapel with his golden key, announced, “The fairy is banished, Gwendolyn deposed, and Lord Charming restored to your ranks. However, there is one more piece of business to which the Crown must attend.”
Will stepped down from the throne, took a few steps across the dais to Elle, and bent down on one knee. “Lady Rapunzel, I wish to openly declare my love for you, and beg you the honor of allowing me to court you and, perhaps one day if I prove myself worthy, to agreeing to be my queen.”
A collective gasp escaped from the watching nobility, and fans fluttered at double speed in irritation at the premature loss of such an eligible bachelor. Neither Will nor Elle heard the commotion below. They stood atop the dais of the chapel and gazed into each other’s eyes—alone for a moment. Then Elle bent down and kissed him gently on the lips.
“I accept,” she said.
Chapter 12
Happily Ever Afters
ALL TALES MUST eventually come to an end. The book is closed. The candle doused. Kisses are given and received. The children rest their heads on their pillows, close their eyes, and sleep. But the best tales never truly come to the end. The author may have dotted the last period, the telling may have passed, and the reader may have fallen silent, but those special stories linger on, weaving themselves into the heart and mind so that they may live, for a time, beyond the confines of the page, in dreams.
The tale of King William and Lady Rapunzel, of Prince Charming and Lady Elizabeth is such a story for the people of Royaume, and it continues to weave its magical spell over the children of the land, in one form or another to this very day. And, perhaps because it is so well known, the broad arc of the story has not changed much with the telling and retelling. It starts with a dragon, ends with a wedding, and has trolls, dwarves, and bandits sprinkled here and there as necessary to keep the children spellbound and, more importantly, quiet. But the story of Will and Liz and Charming and Elle did not end with the banishment of the fairy, or the march of Princess Gwendolyn from Castle White, or even with King William pronouncing his love for Lady Rapunzel before the whole of the court. Those all might have been an end to the story, but they were, none of them, the end.
Nor did the end come in the hours following the dramatic conclusion to the grandest wedding that never was, when the noble courtiers of Castle White, in a fit of mad exuberance or some say collective hysteria, did, as one, strip off their finery and go splashing—quite naked—into the intoxicating waters of the moat. And though it can be imagined that the nobles might well have wished it to end there, it also did not end, shortly thereafter, when the Scarlet Scoundrel and his Marauding Men made a most dramatic and lucrative raid on their discarded garments. It did not even end moments after that, when the courtiers, still recovering from the Scoundrel’s daring act of banditry, found themselves face-to-face with a gruesome boulder-sized troll with long daggerlike talons, great glowing googly eyes, a maw of bone-yellow pointed teeth dripping with fetid dark spittle that oozed and stank, and mottled green-and-black scaled flesh, who lumbered up to the moat, took a look at the fishless, mossless, golden bubbly water, shook its head, and slowly shuffled back into the night with a muttered, “It’s just not right.”
Even weeks later, it had not ended when Will, in one of his first ever Royal Proclamations, declared, to the puzzlement of everyone in Royaume but Charming’s former squire, that a certain field bordering on the Northern Forest was to be set aside for the permanent use of a family of goats.
And though Will may have wished it to be so, it certainly wasn’t over when Gretel released her extremely unauthorized, but incredibly well-received, tell-all book, Prospering with the Lord Protector: My Saucy Times with King William.
No, the story came to, if not the end, at least a proper end a month or so later—after the now-Lord Charming had been sewn up again by the Royal Chirurgeon and given a chance to heal under Liz’s watchful eye. After Tomas had been rescued from the dungeons and raised to the position of Grand Marshall by the now-King William in apology for his having been thrown in the dungeon in the first place. After Lord Rupert was officially sworn in as Steward Rupert, Royal Advisor, much to the relief of Will, who was beginning to understand that it wasn’t always good to be the King. And, perhaps most notably, after everyone— Edward and Liz, Elle and Will, Rupert, Tomas, Elle’s former footman-cum-huntsman-cum-valet and now Master of the Royal Hunt, Collins, newly promoted General of the Royal Guard, Alain, and of course a heartbroken Royal Tailor— had returned to Castle White after a small ceremony in the courtyard of Lord Adam, where the seven dwarves, in one of the most contentious weddings ever witnessed, had married the now Lord and Lady Charming.
The friends had spent a happy week together in the castle. Charming and his father had finally had time to have that talk they had always meant to have—this time unburdened by title. Will and Liz had a few moments to be brother and sister again, during which Liz had not tried to mother him even once—well, okay, maybe once . . . or twice. Tomas had a chance to give Charming an earful, as had Elle, as had Will, as to exactly what would happen to him if they ever heard that he was not treating Liz properly. And then it was time at last for goodbyes.
Under the pure pale blue of a late afternoon summer sky that stretched from horizon to horizon unstained by cloud, Lord Charming and Lady Elizabeth rode out from Castle White. Liz looked over at Charming. He gave her that disarming smile of his, and she felt her heart melt as they stared into each other’s eyes. “I love you, my Edward Charming,” she said, leaning against the neck of her horse and running her fingers through its fine mane.
“And I love you, my Lady Elizabeth.” He swept his arm out toward her.
They both laughed.
“Edward . . .” Liz started, “ . . . what do you think will happen to everyone?”
Charming straightened in his saddle and thought a moment. “Let me see. My father, the Steward, will fill your brother, the King’s”—Charming paused, smiled as if enjoying an inner joke, and shook his head before continuing—“head with how important and grand it is to be King, and Tomas”—he chuckled aloud this time—“Grand Marshall Tomas, I should say, will make sure the King is properly grounded and never forgets what a fool he really is. Between the two of them, he will be confused enough, that it will be a relief when he finally convinces Lady Rapunzel to marry him, because then she can make all the decisions.”
Liz pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes in a way that Charming was beginning to realize meant he was on dangerous ground. He cleared his throat. “Um . . . Alain will stay captain . . . er . . . General of the Guard. The man has fantastic skill with the sword, as I can attest.” He put a hand to his side and grimaced at the remembered pain. Then he shook a finger at her playfully. “And despite the gossip of some ladies that insist he has maudlin tendencies—
Charming cut himself off as Liz arched an eyebrow. “Hmmm . . .” continued Charming. “Well, the dwarves . . . I mean the Seven Players”—he looked around anxiously as though fearing one might spring at him— “their fame is all but assured. I know that they will perform that play about your life in every hall across the kingdom, to stirring reviews.”
Liz sighed and rolled her eyes. “They embellished everything.”
“My dear, there is something to be said for artistic license. Now, where was I? Oh, right. The Royal Tailor will certainly enjoy his position for years to come. In time, I suspect he’ll break your brother, the King’s, rather bad
habit of slouching . . .” Charming put a hand to his chin. “Maybe some boning in the doublet.”
“There you’re wrong,” Liz interrupted, and smiled. “I’ve been trying to do that his entire life. Will is stubborn.”
“Maybe you are right,” he conceded. “But the fellow is a genius and tenacious. After all, he got me into blue, and, for years, I stubbornly believed I was an autumn. Just the thought of all that time wearing orange and brown makes me . . .” He trailed off as Liz playfully rolled her eyes at him. “Right, so, who is left? Of course. My father, Lord Rupert, will stay on as an advisor until the end of his days. I can’t see my father leaving the vicinity of the throne for anything.”
Liz pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. “What about Princess Gwendolyn?”
Charming opened his mouth to say something and then shrugged. “That I’m not sure about. Having been where she is, albeit briefly, I can only say that I hope she finds someone with a generous heart to help her.” Charming’s eyes misted and he had a distant look.
“What are you thinking?” asked Liz, drawing her horse closer.
“I was thinking about Lord Adam, who taught me how to listen to my own heart.” Charming’s voice was soft, and he gazed deep into Liz’s eyes.
“Just so you know,” said Liz, “I heard the poem you delivered to Gwendolyn. I loved it.”
They were entering the shade of the forest now and shared a smile as the sunlight danced through the leaves to dapple the ground around them.
Liz spoke. “One last question for you, my prince.”
“You know, I’m no longer a prince.”
“You will always be my prince, and it is precisely your name I have a question about. Will is called King William, and your father was King Rupert. Shouldn’t you have been Prince Edward? Why did everyone call you Prince Charming?”
Charming reached out and took Elizabeth’s hand, then pulled it gently to his lips. “Milady, I may have experienced victories and defeats, received praise and endured insults, but I don’t believe that anyone in this kingdom could possibly deny that I am charming.” His eyes sparkled as he released her hand and a broad grin that was pure Charming lit his face.