I held my breath as I watched Baby take step after cautious step. But her leg seemed to bear her weight well. It had been bandaged well and seemed to be healing pretty beautifully. Unicorns healed much faster than humans or horses. All she had needed was for someone to set her leg properly and know how much to exercise her. At this rate, she'd be ready to return to the freedom of the meadows within a week or two.
As if feeling my gaze on him, the man with her looked up to the window and met my gaze.
Jay.
Instantly, a smile burst onto his face, and I felt the corners of my own lips turning up in return. A soft exhale left my mouth.
Jay had always been a good friend. An important friend. But now, he was an important...
An important... Something. But what?
The truth was, I didn't know what Jay was anymore, exactly. I’d been so sure he was just a good friend. But now… Well, he was very special to me, I knew that much. More than that, I wasn't really ready to say.
I didn't want to put a label on anything.
Pushing what was between us too fast felt like a recipe for breaking one or both of us. Like crushing the bud of a new flower between my fingers before it had time to bloom.
Seeing me smiling down at him, Jay lifted his hand in a greeting, and I pulled my hand away from the cool glass to wiggle my fingers at him in a wave, still grinning.
Until I felt eyes other than Jay’s on me.
The golden-eyed mother unicorn with Baby and Jay lifted her head in a clear acknowledgment when I made eye contact with her. Her, I didn’t need to invent a name for. Nor did I need to waste time calling her the mother unicorn.
Zacarina, I now knew her to be named. That’s what she’d told me her name was, at any rate. Gods. My smile faded, and so did Jay’s, seeing it. He tilted his head, brow crinkling. “What’s up?” he mouthed.
I shook my head and rolled my eyes, clearly conveying that I had no idea what he was talking about.
I forced a smile onto my face so Jay wouldn’t worry anymore as I looked back at Zacarina. Had she told me that was her name? Or… had I named her? And just imagined that she told me that?
I put a hand to my head and tried to play the gesture off as casual instead of the steadying movement that it was. Hopefully, Jay couldn’t see my hand trembling from down below.
Gods, I was going “round the bend,” wasn’t I?
He gave me a salute in farewell and kept on walking with Zacarina and Baby. Likely, he’d get them their exercise and return them to the staviary where they could rest.
I’d never felt quite so shaken in the presence of unicorns before. Normally, they had a calming effect on me. Before, being near them generally comforted me and lifted my spirits. But not lately. No, lately, my thoughts were too tumultuous for even them to assuage. Lately, when I was around them, I was reminded of what was going on with them. That they had spoken to me when the laws of nature decreed that should be impossible. And possibly a bigger concern was the fact that something was preying upon the unicorns. And I didn’t know who or what that might be.
I left the window and began to pace, wearing a tread into the carpet.
There were clues about the unicorn trapper, but they were few and far between. They wouldn’t get us very far at all in solving the case.
Most people would never attempt to capture a unicorn—the most peaceful of peaceful creatures. It was said that they were blessed by the gods—even acted as a go-between for our mortal realm and the immortal realm. But now, traps had been set in the meadows not once when Baby had been caught up in their vicious jaws, but twice. Thankfully, the second time, we’d been able to intervene before anyone else had been hurt. But the culprit had grown bolder that second time. There were well over a dozen traps set when we’d found them all laid out in the meadow. I couldn’t imagine who would dare to do such a thing.
Then again, maybe I could. Frankly, it was more likely that my own mind had conjured the only clue I had than it was likely to be real.
Zacarina, had seen the man laying the traps…well… she’d heard him, anyway. He’d sang as he worked. And his song had only one word.
Rumpelstiltskin.
I felt a chill brush over my skin as the syllables turned themselves over and over again in my mind.
Rumpelstiltskin.
It had been a childhood joke. A piece of decor. An invented swear word. A curse.
And now, a mystery.
My eyes trailed over the walls of the suite I’d grown up in. To put it more aptly, they trailed the word that festooned that wall. Rumpelstiltskin. One and the same. It was a fictional phrase that I’d grown up hearing, but I’d never known its true meaning. The word littered the palace, but it had always seemed a strange silliness. A weird little word that I didn’t know the meaning of—because what meaning could there possibly be in something like that?
Still, it was a word that my mother wanted me to know; that she had insisted upon being a part of my vocabulary. And so artwork containing the phrase littered the walls of my childhood—and now, adulthood in my room.
I hadn’t mentioned my “conversation” with Zacarina about who had set the traps to anyone. For starters, I wasn’t at all sure that they’d have believed me. I wasn’t even sure that I believed me. Secondly… there wasn’t much to go on, was there?
I had a word to go on. A single, ridiculous word.
And then there was Mother. Mother, who had reacted to a new baby in the family by tightening her reins on me so tightly that I felt like I wasn’t able to breathe. Mother, who was only now, after a somewhat cataclysmic argument, beginning to let me live my life again.
At least now she let me leave the palace every so often. Albeit with guards in tow, even if I’d rather not have the company. Anyone who ever said privacy was overrated had never had to live their life with someone peering interestedly over their shoulder, with someone sticking their fingers into all of their decisions. As far as I was concerned, the guards could see themselves out.
I suppose that wasn’t entirely fair, though. My guards, Williamson and Avery, weren’t bad guys. They were just… also not guys I’d choose to spend my free time with. They tried—I’d even convinced Avery to bend the rules once upon a time. But he was so nervous about it the whole time. There wasn’t even a little part of him that could enjoy it. I guessed that I was lucky to have them, though. It was something of a miracle that Mother hadn’t already had them replaced when I snuck out of the palace to visit the staviary—the time I’d convinced Avery to abandon his post outside my bedroom door. I’d made sure to intervene so that he hadn’t lost his job then.
A knock came at the door.
I cringed, darting a glance toward Fae’s bassinet. Thankfully, the knock hadn’t woken her. But speak of the devils. That knock was sure to be Avery and Williamson, as I lived and breathed.
I stopped pacing, then turned and closed the door to the bedroom so that I wouldn’t wake my sleeping daughter.
“Yes?” I raised my voice and turned toward the entrance.
Avery’s voice was the one that greeted me. “Uh, we’ve got a visitor out here for you, ma’am. Mr. Jay? The staviary keeper,” he added hastily. I couldn’t help the smile the crept over my face. As though I needed to be reminded of who Jay was.
“Yes, I know who he is,” I said, letting my voice reveal my amusement. “You can go ahead and send him in!”
The lock clicked as the handle was turned, and the guards admitted Jay to the chambers. He smiled at me. It was as though I hadn’t just seen that very same smile, not twenty minutes ago through the window. And there was a strange little flutter in my stomach at the sight of his sun-reddened cheeks, his wind-tousled hair and the mud on his boots standing here in front of me. For just a moment, I forgot about all of the other thoughts plaguing me, and I just saw Jay. And I smiled back, because how could I not?
“Saw you watching,” he said, gesturing toward one of the windows. “I figured I should come up
and say hello. Thought it would make you feel less like a creepy little spy.”
Despite myself, my cheeks heated. He was teasing me. I knew that he was teasing me, but the embarrassed reaction was instantaneous and instinctive anyway. I blustered. “I… You… Oh, just shut it,” I said, swatting at him.
Playfully, he leaped out of reach of my arms and danced away. My lips twitched. I should be annoyed, but really, he was so cute when he was pleased with himself that way.
“How’s Baby?” I asked once he settled down and stopped laughing.
He took a seat on the couch in my sitting room and started to put his feet up on my coffee table, but stopped, grimacing when he saw all of the dirt caked on to his shoes. Gingerly, he placed them back down on the floor and looked up at me. “Do you have a rag I could use? I don’t want to mess your rug all up.”
“The damage has already been done, I’m afraid,” I reported with feigned solemnity. Jay looked back at his path into the room and blanched at the clear track he’d left. Mud caked the carpet in the shape of the footprints.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling his boots off and carrying them to the door in his socked feet before heading back to the couch.
I waved a hand, dismissing him. “Stop. It’s fine. I’ll sort it out later. Now… Baby?” I prompted again.
“Right.” He relaxed, his hands falling back to his sides and grasping the edge of the couch so that he perched there, as little of his soiled clothes touching the fabric as possible. His eyes lit up, thinking of the baby unicorn. “I can hardly believe how well Baby’s doing. I mean, you saw her. She’s doing great,” he enthused. “That’s the great thing about her being, well… a baby. Unicorns already heal super fast, but at that age?” He whistled low. “It’s lightning-quick when they’re that young. Their bodies are already changing so fast that the healing time just sort of gets sucked up into that. She’ll be ready to go back to the meadows in no time.”
Back to the meadows… the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I remembered my earlier musings. I wasn’t so sure returning Baby to the meadows where she’d been trapped was such a great idea. But I supposed it didn’t matter all that much what I thought.
“Also…” he raised an eyebrow. “Baby? I see we haven’t come up with any better names yet?”
“I’ve gotten attached to Baby,” I defended my choice. “It’s unique. And a hell of a lot faster than continuing to call her ‘the baby unicorn’ over and over again.” Plus, Zacarina seems to like it too. Or at least, she hasn’t told me she didn’t like it.
He held up his hands. “That’s a fair point, I guess. Speaking of babies…” He raised an eyebrow and gestured toward the bedroom where Fae slept. “Can I…?”
I bit my lip, indecisive. “Ordinarily, you know I’d be only too happy to let you see her,” I said. That was the truth, too. I loved that Jay seemed to honestly adore Fae. And it wasn’t just the fact that she was my daughter. He just loved her. He was easy like that.
“Okay, so why is today different from an ordinary day, then?” he asked.
“It is an ordinary day,” I said. “It’s just not an ordinary hour. It’s just that it took me an age to get her down. Catch me when she’s actually awake, and you can have all the Fae time you can handle. But right now, she’s sleeping.” I yawned, feeling envious of my infant daughter in that moment. Sleep sounded so, so nice.
As if sensing that she was the topic of our conversation, a cry split the air.
I deflated. I swore, when I looked back on Fae’s infancy, I was sure I’d have pleasant memories of her cute little face and her baby noises while I fed her. I’d marvel over how sweet she’d looked as she slept. But right now, I’d kill for a bit of alone time and a couple of hours of decent sleep.
But Jay, not having had his sleep deprived because of the sound, brightened.
“Solo…?” He trailed off questioningly, widening his eyes in a prompt for an answer.
Gods bless him. He did try so hard not to look too eager.
“Go,” I said, sighing a little bit. “I guess it’s better you than me. I just fed the little tyrant before she slept, so she shouldn’t be hungry. And if you can get her back to sleep, I’ll give you—”
“Your firstborn?” His lips quirked to one side, and his eyes danced.
“No, I won’t go that far. But maybe an IOU for a cookie from the castle kitchens.”
He licked his lips. “A freshly baked cookie?”
“As fresh as I can manage.”
He stuck out his hand to seal the bargain. “If you make it a peanut butter cookie, you’ve got yourself a bargain.”
“Done.” I shook his hand and my head, laughing. “I swear, you and the unicorns make quite the team with your peanut butter obsession.”
But Jay wasn’t listening. He’d already opened the door to the bedroom and was lifting Fae into his arms. My daughter’s cries quieted to small fussing sounds as he cradled her against his chest, and she nestled into the warmth of his body.
I leaned against the door frame, watching the two of them, heart melting.
Part of me longed to know what that felt like—to be cradled against Jay’s chest like that. I imagined it had to feel so warm, so safe. But for now, I was content just to watch him with my daughter. A soft smile played about my lips as he sang to her.
But I couldn’t help but think of the lyrics to another song. A song that plagued me.
Rumpelstiltskin.
2
30th April
“Hand me that, would you?” I held out a hand for one of the little burp cloths I used for Fae. I’d tossed it on to her dresser in a rolled-up ball, and it needed to be put in with the dirty laundry.
Mother passed me the cloth but wasn’t distracted from saying her piece. “He’d be so good for you,” she said.
I sighed. I’d made the mistake of telling her how sweet Jay and Fae had looked together yesterday when he’d held her after she’d woken up from her all-too-brief nap. “I know he would, Mother.”
“And it would be so wonderful for the baby, too.” She clasped her hands together and gazed fondly in the direction of Fae’s bassinet.
“I know, Mother.”
“Don’t you want her to have a father?”
I bristled and whipped my head around to look at her in disbelief. I couldn’t believe she had the audacity to say that to me. Not just because it hadn’t even been a year since Luka had passed. Fae could be twenty, and I still wouldn’t think she should say that.
“She has a father,” I snapped. “You might remember him. Big guy… married to me… went by the name of Luka?”
She winced. “I’m sorry. I spoke poorly. Of course, no one could ever replace Luka. We miss him too. And no one will ever be exactly what he was to you or what he would have been for Fae.” She shrugged, speaking more carefully this time. “But perhaps it would be possible for you to have something equally wonderful… just different.”
I bit my lip. I was willing to forgive her for misstepping. I knew she hadn’t meant it the way that it had sounded. But I didn’t know that I was willing to entertain the idea of moving on just yet. The best I could give her was a “Maybe.”
One thing I could say about my mother: Give her an inch, and she’d take a mile. “Your father and I really like him,” she singsonged.
The funniest thing about this conversation was that she probably thought she was just dropping subtle little hints about moving on when, in reality, she might as well have been slinging them with the force of a sling-shot anvil.
I sighed and folded one corner of one of Fae’s blankets up so that it made a neat little square. With the dirty laundry safely in the hamper, I was focusing on putting Fae’s clean things away. For such a tiny thing, she had more laundry than a barrack full of soldiers. I could have asked the palace staff to do it for me, but I wanted to do things for Fae myself.
“Perhaps you and Father should consider marrying Jay, then,” I said dismis
sively.
Distancing myself from the conversation was the easiest way to keep it from getting heated.
There was no bite in my tone, but when I caught a glimpse of my mother’s expression, I could see that I had hurt her feelings.
“Sorry.” I winced. “I didn’t mean that the way that it sounded.”
Round and round we went. Hurting each other and then forgiving each other. But I supposed forgiveness was the most important part of all of it. Choosing to forgive would always be something I did for the people I loved.
And most things were easy to forgive. Mother tilted her head to the side, hurt vanishing after my apology to give way to curiosity. “What did you mean, then? Is it so very platonic between the two of you? Do you really not have any feelings for Jay?”
I balked, something in me immediately denying the question. “I wouldn’t say that,” I said.
“He loves you, you know.”
I sighed again. That I knew. When I knew nothing else, when my bones had turned to dust and settled into the earth, when my body had vanished, and only my soul remained, I would still know that he loved me.
When I didn’t speak—couldn’t really bring myself to if I was being honest—my mother laid one of her hands over mine, which was still holding the folded blanket. “And he certainly loves the baby.” She tilted my chin up so that I met her eyes. “I believe you love him too,” she said softly. “Am I wrong?”
Wordless, I shook my head.
“Then what’s the problem? Why deny yourself this happiness?”
Why? There were so very many reasons, I didn’t even know if I could list them all. For starters, I still felt married. Like it would be a betrayal to Luka. I had to constantly remind myself that it wasn’t the case. And then, there was the fact that…
Eliana: Remembering Rumpelstiltskin (Kingdom of Fairytales Boxset Book 5) Page 9