by Laura Kenyon
“Shit!” She grabbed Rapunzel’s hand. “We can’t let him see the statue! We have to—”
A wave of laughter broke through the room. Aaron had begun speaking.
“After ten years of marriage, I know that everything my wife touches turns to gold,” He was saying. “Be it my wayward fashion sense, her love of art and adventure, or our beautiful children—who, for the record, wanted to be at the adult party so badly they offered to give each guest one of their toys.” He paused, waiting for the laughter to subside, and then started walking toward her. “Cindy, you are the bravest, kindest, sweetest, sometimes infuriating but always most amazing woman I know. We were made for each other through and through, in every way imaginable. I knew that the first moment I spoke with you, held you, on this very dance floor. And I’ve never doubted it once.”
He stopped in front of the table. Rapunzel’s nails dug into Cindy’s arm as they both stared back at him with painfully wide smiles. He held out his hand. Trembling, the Queen pushed herself up from her chair and smoothed her dress with soggy palms. A tinkle of utensils on glasses broke out as she edged beside him and they kissed. She savored the taste of his lips once again—hoping it wouldn’t be the last time after all.
Then he switched the microphone off, lowered himself onto one knee, and took her hand. His fingers were warm and soft.
“Sweetheart,” he said as the guests began to murmur that they couldn’t hear him. Aaron only smirked and locked eyes with his wife. “I’m truly the luckiest man in the world because fate brought us together. I’m so sorry I pushed you away these last couple months. I wanted to make this birthday special, and I might have gotten a bit carried away. I wanted everything to be perfect.” He held the blue velvet box up like an offering to an ancient goddess. “Here’s this for starters.”
Cindy took the gift with quivering hands, bent back the lid, and felt an immediate rush of emotion—a pinch that shot straight from her throat to her eyelids. Glittering against the velvet, she saw a necklace filled with mismatched chunks of silver, topaz, ruby, pearl, clay, wood, sea glass, and a tiny bit of gold. Trinkets and jewels that once belonged to her mother. The orphaned beads she’d thought were lost in her closet. The crest from her father’s cufflinks. She ran her fingers over them and swallowed back a sob. “You made this? How … ? Who … ?”
Aaron rose to his feet and gathered Cindy into his arms. He wiped a tear from her eye.
“Now you can always have a piece of them with you. It seemed more appropriate for your mother’s jewels to be close to your heart than in a box in the back of the closet.”
“But those were just spare beads and broken chains and—”
“Not anymore,” he said. “I found someone who makes artwork with old heirlooms and, well, I’ll introduce you to her later. But all those lost bits that you couldn’t find a use for, they’re all here. She polished the beads, took the gems from all the unmatched earrings, and even melted down the broken chains. And I hope you don’t mind, but I did add one new thing as well.” He pointed to a platinum heart engraved with their initials and dotted with four birthstones—each corresponding to one of their beautiful children.
“It’s perfect,” Cindy whispered as a hot stream wound down her cheek. “You are amazing, you know that? Honestly, I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you forgive me for letting our lives get so far off track. I honestly don’t know how the years went by so quickly. I offered you the world but ended up stuffing you in the tiniest and most crowded kingdom it has to offer.”
“I love Carpale,” she assured him. “And I knew what I was getting when I married a crown prince.”
“Maybe,” Aaron said, lifting her hands up to his chin. “But we had a compromise, and I’ve still got eleven months of travel left on my end—plus interest. I thought a month in Ellada might be a good start. And from there we can work our way across your father’s passports.”
Cindy launched her arms around her husband’s neck. As Aaron kissed her, inciting thunderous applause, she felt her fairy tale beginning all over again. Perhaps that’s why when he turned to the far edge of the dance floor and signaled to a row of footman guarding a giant red sheet, she reacted a split second too late.
“Now let’s see this masterpiece of yours,” he announced.
“No wait!” she cried, jumping between him and her mistaken revenge.
“Oh, you’re just nervous,” he said, pecking her forehead. “I’m sure it’s amazing.”
“No.” She stepped forward, blocking his view. “I made a mistake. I—”
A gasp resounded through the room and swiftly disintegrated into silence. Dead silence.
“I told you I made a mistake,” Cindy squeaked in a voice so small she wasn’t sure Aaron, standing less than an arm’s length in front her, heard anything. With eyes locked on her misguided revenge, Aaron ambled forward. Cindy felt her entire world melting away—again. She had no choice but to scuttle after him, struggling to catch any one of the false explanations that were zooming through her head at lightning speed.
This is exactly what she deserved—a brief glimpse at redemption and then the deep, dark, end. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t trusted him. She’d let her anger change her into something she wasn’t. This wasn’t a clever, righteous idea—it was perverse. It was—
Rapunzel popped onto the floor. “Aaron!” she scolded as the crowd started murmuring again. “For shame! You were supposed to tell me before removing the sheet. Didn’t Cindy tell you I’m playing the curator?”
Aaron stole a confused glance at his wife, who looked sick, and then refocused on Rapunzel. “Umm. No?”
Rapunzel gave a perturbed grunt and pulled a pair of plastic glasses from her cleavage. “Just one moment. Now I’m late getting into character.” She cleared her throat, perched the glasses on the tip of her nose, and pulled her rainbow tresses into an unflattering snail shell bun.
“Now,” she said in an unusually aloof tone, “this modern-day piece was hand sculpted in clay by the great Queen Cinderella of Carpale as a gift to her husband, King Aaron the Magnificent.” Trying to steady her stomach, Cindy let out her breath, long and silent. “Entitled ‘Balance,’ this statue shows the Queen’s opinion of her husband as a man of great loyalty, fidelity, honor, and faith.”
Cindy scanned Aaron’s face. If he was buying this, she couldn’t tell.
“As you can see, the King is surrounded by beautiful women—women who’ve disgraced many less admirable men, even other current Marestam kings.” Rapunzel shot an infuriated stare at Donner, who was slumped over his table beside Letitia and her beau. “But as you can see, noble King Aaron is looking up towards the heavens. He is ignoring the temptations of the flesh and choosing faith, family, and the people of his kingdom instead.”
The guests who previously looked stunned and mortified were now nodding and pointing thoughtfully toward the sculpture. Cindy was trying to play down her gratitude to Rapunzel so no one realized it was all a load of shit.
“But even the greatest of artists must begin at the base of a very steep learning curve,” Rapunzel continued. “As you can see, Queen Cinderella did make a few miscalculations here, particularly involving her husband’s—”
“That’s enough,” Aaron ordered, clapping Rapunzel’s mouth shut with his words. Both women froze. Aaron gave the sculpture a final once-over and then turned toward Cindy.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. Cindy’s heart sank into her abdomen. “I had no idea that all this time I was depriving the world of such talent.”
Cindy’s relief surged forward, pushing through a breached floodgate. The weight of the world tumbled from her shoulders. “Are you serious?” The words slipped out before she could think about them.
Aaron’s face lit up. “Of course I’m serious. Look at the texture of these arms. And the face—it’s like looking into a mirror. Not so crazy about the lower half.” He cleared his throat. “But you’ll get there. Besides, I
should be happy you aren’t an expert on the male anatomy.” He gave her a playful jab. She bowed her head and blushed. Her world wasn’t going to end after all.
“And I love the story it tells,” he continued. “I’ll bet you could stare at it for hours and come up with a million different interpretations.” Cindy gave a tiny nod. “I just have one question.” His eyes lingered on his marble counterpart’s right hand. “What are these?”
“Umm.” What could she say? Candy wrappers? Bubblegum? Cindy’s lips seemed sewn shut.
“Condoms,” Rapunzel cut in, her face deadpan. Aaron coughed and then began to choke. “Ha, gotcha. Just kidding. Those, my dear patron, would be CD cases. I believe in the beginning of their courtship the royal artist and her beloved wooed each other quite often through the music of the heart.”
It took all of Cindy’s power to resist racing up to Rapunzel and giving her the grandest hug ever witnessed in Marestam. Instead, her friend issued a sly wink and then disappeared, off to woo a trio of men hovering near the chocolate waterfall.
“Nice touch with the curator,” said Aaron, curling Cindy’s hands up to his heart. They still pumped with adrenaline. “I’ll have to thank her later, but right now I’d like to dance with my incredible bride.
As the band struck up their wedding song and Aaron stepped to her side, Cindy looked around at their audience. Her heart swelled as it took in her friends’ faces, gazing back at her with triumphant smiles and loving eyes; her rambunctious children, who’d somehow slipped out of bed and were chasing each other around Ruby’s table in their pajamas; and her wonderful husband, whom she would never doubt again.
“What are you thinking?” Aaron asked, tipping her chin up as they reached the center of the dance floor. He gave her a delicate twirl and then pulled her close.
Cindy shook her head and pressed her cheek against his. Ten years ago, she was in this same spot, wearing this same dress, breathing him in for the very first time. He still smelled of sugar cookies. He still only had eyes for her. They still adored each other. Everything and nothing had changed.
“It’s still hard to believe I’m this lucky,” she said. “Guess I’m just waiting for the clock to strike midnight and the fairy tale to come to an end.”
Aaron’s chest rose and fell against her as he let out a long sigh and tucked a piece of golden hair behind her ear. His eyes lowered as his lips moved toward hers but then stopped, barely half an inch away, and waited. A longing the size of a bean popped up inside of her and instantly sprouted in all directions until she couldn’t wait any longer. Winding her fingers through his hair, she pulled his lips the rest of the way and forgot about everyone else in the room.
When they finally pulled apart, Aaron’s eyes were glossy and on fire. “There’s no midnight tonight,” he said. “I promise. There’s no midnight for us at all.”
Chapter Twenty-one
RAPUNZEL
Belle tried for weeks to convince Rapunzel that taking over Trudy’s inn was exactly the sort of fresh start they needed.
She understood what it meant for Belle, of course. Unemployed, alone, desperate to have something of her own. But Rapunzel had an apartment. She had a job—as empty as it had become. And while she was starting to understand Mother Nature’s appeal to some people, she still preferred smooth concrete to dirt and ditches any day.
“Potpourri and brunch and fireside chats are your thing,” Rapunzel said, struggling to resist her friend’s pout. (If Belle’s baby came out looking like that, the world wouldn’t stand a chance.) “Why don’t you just buy it? What do you need me for?”
She instantly regretted asking.
Belle held up one finger, scurried out of the room, and sprinted back with a giant binder stuffed with pictures pulled from magazines; marketing plans; wallpaper samples; a timeline written on six cocktail napkins; lists of contractors (and customer reviews); brochures from similar inns; and a dozen other color-coded papers that made Rapunzel’s head throb. But as much as she wanted to grab a cold compress and walk upstairs to bed, she couldn’t deny that the plan actually made sense.
Together, they would spread the word and reel in investors. Belle would live in the inn, maintain it, clean it, plan activities, cook, and run all the day-to-day operations. Rapunzel, from as near or far as she wanted, would handle the business side, plan special events, and create that buzz she was so good at. It would be called The Purple Phoenix—much better than Dew Drop or Sparkling Springs, both of which she’d have expected from Belle.
“I think it’s catchy,” Belle chirped. “Gender-neutral color, magical animal, alliteration…”
Rapunzel nodded and put on her thinking face for a good three minutes. But it was just for show. She didn’t need a fresh start the way Belle did, but life after Ethan had been surprisingly hard. In the past, she’d chopped men off like split ends—not feeling so much as a pinch. But losing Ethan felt more like sawing off a frostbitten toe with a plastic knife. Even if she wanted to forgive him, he’d disappeared. He’d left her all alone—just like that “prince” all those years ago.
But she didn’t need a man to get her back on track. About that much, Grethel had been right. Perhaps a new purpose would do her well after all.
“Let’s just call it The Phoenix,” she said as Belle rocketed into the air and squeezed her friend in her arms. Beast sprouted a silver mohawk and began barking at all the windows. “Just promise we won’t go up in flames.”
THE MARESTAM MIRROR
Diamond Ropes and Velvet Cake
By Perrin Hildebrand, King of Gossip*
IT’S official! After much sweat and toil (at least on behalf of their lackeys), Marestam’s newest dynamic duo will open their much-anticipated Phoenix B&B this weekend! The unexpected sisterhood between Rapunzel and Belle is truly one for the history books. Some say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, but I say fury is a great look for these two.
On the guest list for the grand unveiling: Queen Letitia and her soon-to-be hubby; pint-size designer extraordinaire Thumbelina; our sharp-nosed PM Angus Kane; and Cinderella and Aaron Charmé, who bumped their make-up honeymoon by two weeks in order to make the party.
Not on the list: Belle’s royal baby-daddy, Belle’s sister Julianne, and Ethan Wilkins, the mysterious Stularian royal who broke my heart by stealing Rapunzel’s and then disappeared into thin air.
Since buying the 3,600-square-foot B&B in early June, the ladies have revamped everything and turned an old shed into a one-room cabin. (Meditation space? Groundskeeper’s quarters? If so, fingers crossed for a hottie!). For now, The Phoenix will only serve breakfast and occasional snacks (with Belle preparing all the delicacies herself), but I hear there are plans to add a full restaurant in the future, and special events may be booked anytime. Belle—and eventually her child, assuming she retains custody—will live on the bottom floor, which also houses the reception desk, breakfast room, and a lounge where guests can congregate after bird watching … or snowshoeing … or whatever those wilderness people do.
SPEAKING of custody, Belle and Donner spent the summer quietly licking their wounds, but all sources close to the couple are confident an explosion is imminent.
Says Braddax Queen Mother Hazel Wickenham: “Donner has been dutifully accompanying his wife to her prenatal examinations and intends to be one hundred percent involved in the child’s life. No matter what terms my son is on with his wife in the future, make no mistake: The only suitable home for a prince or princess is in a castle. The people of Braddax can rest easy knowing I’ll be vigilant about ensuring this is the case.”
Them’s fighting words. No official petition for divorce has yet been filed with the realm clerk, but both parties have been in touch with legal counseling.
BOOKED solid in the wake of Cinderella’s thirtieth birthday party, Always and Forever founder Kimberly Epson has just purchased a brand new studio in midtown Carpale. The sparkly new digs will not only showcase her party planning expertise. They als
o include a production facility for her customized artwork, which takes sentimental items and recreates them as jewelry, lamps, hood ornaments—you name it.
Note: If Miss Epson’s name sounds familiar, you’re probably thinking of her older sister Karen, the last known woman to be murdered by serial husband Blue Beardsley. Beardsley, who confessed to killing his first three wives after his fourth discovered the bodies, is currently serving year four of three life sentences. Grisly stuff not fit for a gossip column, so allow me to pull out my silver-lining pen. After dropping out of design school to take care of her orphaned nephew, it seems Kim is not only back on track—she’s aiming for the moon. Best of luck to her!
I NEVER thought it possible, but Queen Dawn of Regian has seemed even more pouty-faced than usual. Now, I understand it’s tough constantly apologizing for a husband who thinks schools infringe on good hotel land—but come on! The woman’s got two adorable children, a castle, and is physically unable to sleep! Seriously. If I had all that extra time, my column would come out hourly, I’d have a body like Adonis, and I’d own the hottest nightclub in Marestam so all my gossip fodder would have to come to me. Calling all magic folk—licensed, rogue, or otherwise—this woman is in desperate need of a happy spell!
AND just because I get all tingly inside when I mention all our femme fatale regents at once … I hear Snow White and her hubby recently painted their Tantalise bedroom ecru. Way to crush the headlines, kids.
*Copyright Official!!
Chapter Twenty-two
RAPUNZEL
After weeks of painting, landscaping, decorating, furnishing, jostling with health inspectors, and waging war with a particularly territorial raccoon, Rapunzel and Belle opened The Phoenix to a full house at the height of summer.
“It’s resplendent,” cooed Dawn, standing beside her husband and clutching an especially full glass of chardonnay. “You two never cease to amaze me. You just put your minds on it and, poof! A new beginning.”