by Andy Coffey
***
Her Majesty Queen Ophelia Goldendwing had been Queen of all Faeries for just over two years, following the abdication of her mother Queen Hazel Goblinfly.
The race of faeries have no realms as such and just tend to make their homes wherever they are welcome, therefore the Queen’s subjects are spread far and wide across the entire country. It should also be said that there is no such thing as a male faerie, so in order for a faerie to mate she must take a human lover. Given that all faeries are invariably stunningly beautiful this has never caused a problem, and in fact the queues are generally very long when a faerie advertises herself as ‘available’. Every faerie is born with wings and although they are unable to fly as such, they can use them to hover for short periods of time.
Ophelia was a very popular queen. She was kind and giving and cared deeply for all living creatures. She brought joy and light with her when she entered a room, had a wonderful sense of humour, and also had quite probably the most beautiful smile in the cosmos. Her wings were considered to be flawless (a sign of great purity in faerie lore) and she was wise beyond her years. Like most faeries, however, she was very fond of handbags, shoes and combs.
She had been engaged to Olaf for six months and he had said that he wished to marry her as soon as Sacred Wind landed a major record deal. Although faerie wealth is legendary, as a proud Viking of semi-noble heritage himself, he desired to pay his way… or at least buy the shopping every week.
Ophelia awoke with a start, sitting up and peering into the near-darkness around her. As her eyesight began to grow accustomed to the low light, she went over to the door and turned the handle. It was locked and she wasn’t really surprised. She felt around the walls for a light switch and found one.
The room was not unpleasant. The furnishings were clean and of very good quality, indicating that whoever owned this property wasn’t short of money. There was a single window with curtains drawn across it at the far end of the room, so she pulled them back. The window was barred, so although her host or hosts wanted her to stay in relative comfort, they obviously didn’t want her to leave. As her head began to clear she delved into her memories, trying to bring the most recent ones to the surface.
She remembered feeling tipsy and going upstairs at the palace. She remembered falling through the door of the royal bedroom and chatting to the two Feng Shui practitioners. She remembered the pink carpet and remembered being given a drink. After this everything seemed to be a blur; vague recollections of being carried and a giant man smiling at her.
As she looked out of the barred window she could see the tall spires of a massive cathedral nearby. There was only one cathedral of that size in the vicinity. She was in Chester.
The lock on the door clicked and it swung open. ‘Hello there, Queen Ophelia. I hope you had pleasant dreams and find the room to your liking,’ said Baron Blacktie, standing in the doorway with Grunt behind him.
‘You’ll be staying with us for a few days,’ the Baron continued. ‘I think you’ll find I’m an excellent host… well most of the time. But I’m afraid it’s past my bedtime now, so I will bid you adieu for this night and we can have a good chat in the morning, after breakfast. I’m sure you’ll have lots of questions.’
‘I have one now,’ Ophelia said.
‘Well, as long as it’s quick. I really am rather pooped,’ the Baron sighed.
‘Have you seen my comb?’