The Storyteller’s Daughter

by Victoria McCombs

  My mind was racing as fast as my heart was beating, but finally the tears slowed. My breaths still came in gulps, but I gained control of my shaking.

  Rumpel kept his arms around me until my fit stopped. I once thought that Aiden’s felt safe, but I was wrong. Being here, held by Rumpel, this was what safety felt like.

  He stepped back and looked me in the eye, speaking gently. “You deserve the world.”

  With those words, my last tear fell. Rumpel wiped it from my cheek before he vanished again. I didn’t even get a chance to thank him.

  After a while, I rejoined the town, keeping my distance as everyone admired Conrad. His guards had organized a food cart for the people and were busy passing out loaves of bread and fruit and vegetables. Conrad rolled up his sleeves as he helped distribute the food, talking amicably to those around him. When he spotted me, he waved his whole arm, beckoning me to his side. I joined him in passing out food and watched as he continued to charm the villagers.

  In so many ways, Conrad appeared the perfect leader. I kept observing him, trying to find a hint of the faults lying beneath his appealing exterior. So far, I came up empty. Rumpel’s word was the only thing holding me back from putting my faith in Conrad as our next monarch.

  Hours went by and the people didn’t relent. Eventually, Conrad reached for my hand and put his other hand over his chest. His voice boomed so he could be heard. “I’m so sorry, but we have to get back to the tavern. All are welcome to join us there tonight.”

  Mama and Papa were going to make a lot of money. I hoped they were ready.

  Conrad kept his hand in mine as we weaved back through the crowd, and I saw many eyes on us. My cheeks flushed, and I knew what they were thinking. I would have to talk to Conrad later about not giving the appearance that we were together, but it wasn’t the time. I resisted the urge to search the crowd for Aiden to see if he noticed; I didn’t need his judgment.

  I spent most of the night in my family’s company as I helped out at the tavern. It was strange, how much I used to despise working there and how much comfort I found in it that night. It was nice to feel something normal again. Just when the evening was settling down and customers were starting to wander home to their beds, Aiden appeared at the door with his hands deep in his pockets. I shook my head and quickly moved to the front to push him back outside.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked quietly. The gathering dark cast shadows across his face.

  “I don’t want the prince to hurt you.” He peeked inside the door, which I then pushed shut.

  “I told you, I don’t have feelings for him.”

  Aiden tilted his head. “Maybe not yet, but he’s keen on you. You know he just wants the gold. If he knew…he wouldn’t want you anymore.” Apparently, he hadn’t hurt me enough.

  “Aiden, you’ve said enough. You don’t even know him.”

  “I know enough. And if it will keep you safe, I’ll tell him that you can’t spin gold.”

  I sucked in my breath. The possibility of Aiden selling me out hadn’t crossed my mind, but now that he brought it up, it terrified me. He could cost me everything. I peered through the darkness to see his expression better, and found it was stone cold. “Please don’t. It’s not Conrad I’m worried about, but his father. He’s gone mad. When he finds out I’ve been lying, there’s no telling what he’ll do.”

  Aiden’s voice was flat as he gave his ultimatum. “It’s for your sake, Cosette. Come home soon, or else I’ll tell him myself.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “I don’t know what he’s thinking,” Rumpel said as he sat at his wheel. I held straw in my hands, but he wouldn’t take it. Instead, he turned around and crossed his ankles, looking at me with a puzzled expression. “I just don’t get it. Why is he involving himself in this?”

  I sighed. “I can’t tell if he’s trying to hurt me or help me, but I can only hope he didn’t mean it.”

  “I think he did. I can’t say I like this chap,” Rumpel said.

  “He wasn’t always so…manipulative,” I said as I twisted the straw in my fingers and tried to give it to him again. “But I’ve thought about it and how could the King believe him when I produce gold each morning? He’ll laugh Aiden off and send him back home, none the wiser.”

  Rumpel studied me for a moment as he continued to ignore the straw. “That’s a calm response for someone whose life potentially hangs in the balance.”

  A nervous laugh escaped my lips. “You saying things like that doesn’t help. But I have enough to worry about as it is; I can’t see Aiden following through on the threat. Now will you take this straw? Or else we’re going to be here all night!”

  “Fine.” He finally took the straw. “But I really am sorry about Aiden.”

  The pain hurt less today. At this point, my heart was mourning the loss of what it once desired. I allowed it to feel the sting; it was good for me to have something else to focus on besides what would happen when the King learned that I couldn’t spin gold, which would still probably occur even without Aiden’s intervention.

  I couldn’t understand the King. Papa spoke so well of him when I was younger. He was a charismatic ruler who made friends easily in different countries. I couldn’t understand what changed since then that made the people dislike him, or why he was still King. Conrad said that he was changed by the death of his wife, then again by the war, but I think it all drove him mad.

  I’d seen my share of drunk men. I didn’t even bat an eye at them anymore. There was always a phase between rational and drunk where men could act normal, but their decisions were clouded. One moment they made a perfectly sound choice, and the next they did something ludicrous. That was where the king lived, on the line between realistic and manic. I couldn’t bring it up with Conrad, but I feared the King’s mind was long gone.

  What sort of man threatens to kill a village girl so easily?

  “Did you know the King’s name is Bellifusa?”

  Rumpel snorted as he laughed. “I did, in fact. Bellifusa Alfred. Quite the charming name, I think,” he joked.

  I giggled. “It is something. I was planning on naming my first kid that. Actually, I really like the name Alfred.”

  Rumpel chuckled before glancing at my face. “Oh, you’re serious! That’s an awful name!”

  “Alfred? Why? I think it’s strong!”

  “For a horse, maybe.”

  I dropped my jaw and pretended to be offended. “What did you name your daughter?”

  He grinned. “Posey.”

  Now I remembered the name from my research, though I couldn’t make fun of that. Posey was a delicate name. I glanced at Rumpel, who was smiling as he spun, and dared to ask more about his daughter.

  “Do you know what became of her?”

  “She married a farm boy, and they had three daughters of their own, and one cute boy. I got to visit them often and saw each of them married.” His face was distant as he remembered them.

  “Are they still alive?” I asked as I handed him more straw.

  “They are, though they are at the end of their lives.” He frowned slightly.

  I loved having Rumpel here with me, but it didn’t feel right that he’d spent the last of his life and his grandchildren’s lives with me, when he could have been with them. I said so, then held my breath for his reply.

  He turned and gave me a small smile. “I could go see them, but they don’t know me well. I’d rather spend my last months here with you.” His words brought a hint of warmth to my heart. I was glad that he enjoyed being with me as much as I enjoyed being with him.

  * * *

  The next day Anna was sick, and I insisted on spending the day taking care of her for a change. I fetched her tea and soup and put her in my bed. She complained at first that I was trying to get her fired, but she didn’t have enough strength to argue for long. After a little insistence, she crawled into the bed and let me fetch her some handkerchiefs.

  I tried to clean the
room while she slept, and barely found time to eat. I ended up being late to dinner with Conrad, then rushed to the room where I spun gold with Rumpel.

  Rumpel usually began spinning before I came in, but today, the spinning wheel was pulled away from its usual place on the rug and set up closer to the window, which was open to let the late spring air into the room. Rumpel sat against the wall under the window with his feet out and a book nestled on his lap. When he looked up at me, his face was elated. He set his book aside. “I’ve been thinking. If there’s any bit of magic inside you, I could teach you how to do this.” He waved his hand toward the spinning wheel.

  “I don’t understand,” I said as I closed the door behind me.

  Rumpel’s hand stroked his chin for a few moments while his eyes narrowed in thought. “See, I can’t figure out why everyone would have a Gift but you, so my best guess is that the magic in you is laying dormant. We might be able to wake it up, and mold it into what we want it to be.”

  “So, people aren’t confined to their Gifts?” I marveled. He stood up and rubbed his hands together.

  “Theoretically, no. I don’t think. This is all speculation. But I’ve been reading about it, and I want to find a way to teach you to spin gold for yourself, so you’ll survive after I’m gone.”

  Rumpel’s enthusiasm was catching, but he was forgetting an important fact. For a moment, he reminded me of Aiden, so determined to find my Gift as if that was the only way I’d have a place in this world. “I don’t have a Gift.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t believe that there’s no magic inside you. We just have to find it.”

  “Let me get this straight. So, while I’ve been spending my days researching how to break your curse, you haven’t been trying at all? Instead, you’ve been making preparations for when you go?”

  “I’m doing it for you. You’re welcome.”

  He did a funny little bow, and I had to laugh. Truthfully, I was grateful for the effort. Words couldn’t express how worried I was for what would come in a few months when Rumpel’s time was up. Neither of us was certain of what that would look like for him, and I knew I had to have a strategy for what I would do if he disappeared.

  I’d still come no closer to breaking his curse.

  The books that Old Mr. Walters gave me were stashed under my bed so I could read them the next day. Anticipation gnawed at me, and I couldn’t wait to discover what stories would be told. I would have devoured them today, but I had foolishly put Anna to bed in my room, right above where I hid the books, and I didn’t want her asking any questions. She was feeling better, and I would have time later. But first, I must get through tonight.

  “I don’t know how you plan to accomplish this.” I held my arms open wide. “But you may try.”

  He rubbed his hands together like a giddy boy. “Sit, sit.” He moved from his seat and patted the wooden plank in front of the wheel. I rolled my eyes at his eagerness, fanning out my skirt as I perched myself on the edge of the seat.

  I watched Rumpel do it enough times that I knew the moves, but I humored him as he showed my hands where to start. “Oh, there, really? I thought I held it here.” I moved my hand way down to the bottom of the wheel.

  “No, you silly girl. Focus.” Rumpel smirked as he moved my hand back to the correct position. I straightened my back obediently. “This will go through there, and gold will come out here.” He moved his hand to the end of the spindle.

  I shook my head. “It’s not going to happen.”

  Rumpel took a step back and put his hands on his waist. “According to my books you need to have a positive attitude in order for this to work.”

  I laughed. “Really? I think you’re making that up. I’d like to see this book.”

  In a flash, Rumpel was gone. My mouth formed an O. I’d been joking. A second later he reappeared with a small book. He rifled through the pages, pushing it toward my face.

  “Alright alright, I’ll work on my attitude.” I turned my body back toward the spinning wheel.

  I’d grown accustomed to sitting behind the wheel when I spun for Seamstress Kira, though it was only for a short while. It had been several months since then, and the feeling was no longer natural to me. I shifted uncomfortably in the seat as I willed positive thoughts into my mind.

  Fingers twisted the straw as I eased my foot down on the treadle. The straw approached the bobbin, but its rough exterior got caught and bunched up. I moaned.

  “See, that is what is supposed to happen. Straw on its own can’t be spun, it has to be retted and heckled first. This won’t work.” I put the straw down and turned to get up from the stool, but Rumpel’s hand stopped me.

  “You’ve tried one time and you’re giving up?”

  “This isn’t giving up. This is being smart enough to know that I can’t do it.”

  Rumpel pointed to his book. “Well now we know why it didn’t work. Wrong attitude.”

  I swatted the book from his hand. “That’s not the problem.”

  Rumpel took my hand in his. His eyes held mine as he batted them. “Please? Try?”

  I grumbled, but lowered myself back to the seat. I picked back up the straw and tried to twist it harder. I needed the crispy part to break off, leaving me with the soft fibers in the middle. That was the part that could be turned into thread. When Rumpel worked, the straw magically fit through the bobbin and wrapped itself around the spindle. If I couldn’t even get the straw through the bobbin, then I had no chance of making thread, much less gold.

  Again I tried, but to no avail. Time after time I pushed that straw forward, but not once did it fit. Rumpel came closer and put his hand on my back, leaning his head down and whispering encouragement to me as I tried. I was sure he was trying to help me achieve my goal, but all he managed to do was distract me.

  Finally, I gave up. “If one of us doesn’t spin gold, we are going to be in a lot of trouble in the morning.”

  “Ah.” Another motion toward his book. “The art of desperation. The book mentioned that might be a motivating factor as well.”

  “Ha! Where did you get this book?”

  “Literally the same place we got all the other books.”

  “That library has given us nothing helpful,” I grumbled.

  “I don’t think your heart is in the right place. Maybe you’re still too upset about Aiden,” Rumpel suggested.

  The sting from Aiden was fading surprisingly fast. I guessed that showed how little I cared for him to begin with. My heart still felt raw, but it wasn’t broken.

  Rumpel sighed. “I will finish tonight. But I want you to try again tomorrow.”

  “Alright.” I moved off the seat and happily retook my place on the floor next to him. “But don’t get your hopes up.”

  “I believe in you.”

  His words, though playful, were kind, and it warmed my heart to know that he was there for me. I vowed that as soon as I was released from this room, I would devour those books under my bed. Breaking the curse would mean that I would never need to learn to spin gold.

  I must save Rumpel.

  It was more than just saving Rumpel. If he left, I would be lost and at the mercy of the King. I needed to break this curse to save myself, too.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Happy birds chirped outside my open window, singing me their songs while I rested on a mound of pillows and my hand floated by a plate of sweets. I enjoyed being home, but I had missed the sweets more than I thought I would.

  My knees snuggled in the blankets and my book lay propped up against them. Today, I would solve Rumpel’s curse.

  I opened the book slowly, anticipation and hope stirring inside me as I thumbed through the pages and hoped this volume would give me something that none of the others had.

  I don’t know if I was expecting to see a picture of Rumpel, but I didn’t see one as I flipped through the pages. Still hopeful, I nestled into the pillows and started at the very beginning.

  Each page t
old a remedy for one ailment or another. Some were caused by magic, others were as simple as warts: normal and magic ones. Both remedies called for frog skin.

  Then, located right after a troll’s curse, was a page titled “True Love’s Kiss.” There was a lovely picture of a couple kissing and sparks flying around them. I read through the page quickly. It seemed that true love’s kiss could break powerful curses.

  I wondered if it could cure warts too.

  Then I wondered if Rumpel tried that. He hadn’t told me every single thing he tried, but if he’d considered true love’s kiss, I wondered if he left it out of his story on purpose.

  But did the object of the curse have to be in love for true love’s kiss to work? Or could they kiss the person who was meant to be their true love, and it worked all the same? I doubted I could find a girl for Rumpel to fall in love with in four months. It wouldn’t be hard to get the girl to fall in love with him, but he seemed rather put off from romance. He possessed the good looks and the personality, and he was free to go out and chase every girl that came his way, but instead he chose to spend his final months holed up in the back room spinning straw with me. That didn’t sound like someone looking for love.

  A silly thought flew through my head, but I dismissed it just as quickly.

  But maybe…

  No. It was crazy. I didn’t love Rumpel. He didn’t love me. My kiss wouldn’t save him.

  With Aiden, I had to think about if I was in love, until I’d convinced myself that I was. It wasn’t instinct. The next time I was in love I wanted it to be so undeniable that I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to know without a doubt that my heart was in it. There would be no questions and no reservations.