Kingdom of Villains and Vengeance: Fairytale retellings from the villain's perspective (Kingdom of Darkness and Light Book 2)

by Laura Greenwood

  Papa laughed, “Aye, I am. Most days, I even feel like it too. But not when I am with you, Romy.”

  They turned and headed on their way. Romy helped Papa up the steps and then rang the bell. They could hear the party goers inside. Time had gotten away from them. Or perhaps it wasn’t as easy for Papa to walk the distance as it once had been.

  “Romy!” Frieda squealed as she opened the door and flung her arms around her best friend.

  Romy was quick to return the embrace.

  Frieda then embraced Papa with as much exuberance as she had with Romy. “I am so happy you are here! Please come inside. There is loads of food set up in the dining hall. I believe that we might even have a little dancing later.”

  Romy’s stomach twisted. With her uneven legs, dancing was usually out of the question. She smiled weakly at Frieda and looked around the room. “It looks like you have an excellent turn out.”

  Frieda beamed at the compliment. “Yes! This is going to be the most perfect night of all nights.”

  Romy couldn’t help but return Frieda’s smile. “I am very happy for you. You do know that, right?”

  Frieda embraced her again. “Of course, I do! Come along, Thomas will want to see you.”

  Romy highly doubted that. However, after she saw that Papa was placed in a soft chair with plenty of food to eat, she followed Frieda. Right before they entered the blue sitting room, somebody ran straight into Romy nearly sending her to the floor.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Her apology broke off when she saw the blazing anger in Leon’s face. Instinctively Romy took a step back.

  “You are a bloody cow, Romy. I don’t know why any of them put up with you.”

  The words were so hateful that Romy gasped as if she had been struck.

  Leon wasn’t finished. He rounded on Frieda and continued his tirade. “Do you actually mean to marry him? You do know that the person Thomas loves most in the world is Thomas.”

  Frieda’s chin tilted up. “I don’t know how you know about our engagement. Nothing has been formally announced. And if you cannot be civil to my guests, I will have to ask you to leave, Leon.”

  His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. “You think you can just send me away and I will go willingly? You and I were really starting to build something before Thomas came in and ruined it all.”

  Frieda shook her head. “No. I have never had romantic feelings for you, Leon. I have always considered you a friend. But seeing your behavior tonight, I am having a hard time remembering why I even considered your friendship of value to me. You are a bully. You take without anyone else’s concern in mind. You refuse to see what’s right in front of your face.”

  Leon laughed, but the sound was wrong. His body was shaking with rage. “Me?” he spat. “You actually have the nerve to consider my friendship beneath you? Do all of your precious friends know who you really are? Do they know what you’ve come from?”

  Romy glanced around them and noticed that they had drawn quite a crowd. Thomas, of course, was nowhere to be found. Whatever their differences were, Leon and Frieda shouldn’t be airing them in such a public manner. Romy had to do something.

  “Why don’t we step outside and discuss things rationally?”

  Romy didn’t even see it coming. One minute she was standing and the next she was backhanded and flying against the wall. Her cheek throbbed and the sound of flesh hitting flesh reverberated in her ears. Shakily, Romy reached up and felt a trickle of blood from where her lip had split.

  Frieda was outraged. “Get out!” she screamed, no longer caring about keeping up pretenses. “This house has seen far too much violence and it will never be that way again. You are to leave and never return. Do you understand me?”

  Leon took a threatening step toward Frieda.

  Romy tried to clear her head, but the ringing was louder than their voices and spots kept appearing in front of her eyes.

  Leon’s hands began to glow. A sinister look overtook his entire body. Suddenly he raised his hands and shot the magic at Frieda. “You will never find happiness with the Prince,” he began. “Your first born will be cursed with the gift of death. Every person your babe touches, for good or ill, will bring about their last breath. Maybe then, Frieda, you will truly know what heartbreak is about.”

  “No!” Romy cried out. She wasn’t as familiar with curses, but she knew that they were powerful. To curse one’s first born was even worse, because the spell would have time to knit together. Each strand woven together into something that couldn’t be broken.”

  “I say,” Thomas appeared at the doorway, pushing through the crowd. “What’s going on here?”

  “Congratulations,” Leon bit off as he rose to his feet.

  Thomas smiled genially, not even noticing the way that Frieda was stricken or that Romy was still on the floor.

  “Get out,” Frieda said in a low voice.

  Leon moved to leave but Thomas laid a hand on his arm. “Surely there hasn’t been some misunderstanding?”

  Romy pushed to a sitting position. She was about to tell Thomas what had truly happened when Frieda interjected. “Leon has to leave. I was bidding your cousin farewell.”

  The crowd seemed to be waiting with bated breath. Romy knew that there was only one thing that could be done. With a sigh, she turned toward the wall and began to grow the Devil’s Breath plant in her hand. If they sprinkled the powder on the food, there was a chance that nobody would remember what really happened on this terrible night.

  Romy didn’t see Leon’s disgusted face as he stormed out of Frieda’s home. Nor did she hear the argument that Thomas and Frieda had over his abrupt departure.

  Perhaps it was best that she hadn’t. Slowly and carefully Romy dusted the food and drinks making sure that everyone was spelled by the Devil’s Breath. It was only when she came to Papa that she couldn’t do it.

  “What have you done, child?”

  Romy knew this wasn’t the time to argue. “Terrible things, Papa.”

  “You know that every choice for good or ill has a consequence?”

  Romy nodded. The churning in her stomach had turned into a hurricane. Doubt plagued her mind, but she didn’t see any other way around it. “Have I done wrong, Papa?”

  He stared at her for a long while. His lips pursed and his wizened face devoid of the usual humor. “I can’t say, Romy. There are times in life when the path we need to take is clearly marked. But there are also times when you have to forge your own way. You have chosen your path. Now you must see it through.”

  “That was the last of them,” Frieda said as she approached Romy and Papa. “I have sent everyone home to sleep in their beds.”

  Frieda’s red rimmed eyes met Romy’s. “What has Leon done?”

  Romy shook her head not knowing how to respond.

  “Where is Thomas?” Papa asked.

  Frieda twisted her hands together. “Please don’t be angry.”

  Papa’s brows raised as Romy took Frieda’s hand. “You spelled Thomas and sent him home.”

  Frieda nodded jerkily.

  Papa closed his eyes. Sighing as if the weight of the world has been placed on their shoulders.

  “What’s done is done,” Romy replied, and so it was.

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15-

  “Hey! Turnip girl!” Einar shouted in a sing-song voice.

  Radishes. Romy thought to herself. Her brows snapped together as she yanked another weed from her garden. Refusing to look up or even acknowledge his presence. Romy steeled herself to stick to her guns.

  She vowed the last time he came around that she wasn’t going to talk to him anymore. A mere two days after Romy had delivered the radishes to him instead of Widow Hayes. Einar has shown up on their cottage doorstep with the empty basket and a huge grin on his face.

  “Come on now,” he cajoled. “You aren’t still angry at me, are you?”

  Romy bit the inside of her cheek—hard.


  “You know, I think that last one was a green bean.” He added conversationally.

  Romy looked down in horror to see that she had indeed weeded out several of the plants that were supposed to stay in the garden.

  “Blast it all,” she muttered.

  Einar laughed. “Does your Papa know that you go around using that kind of language?”

  Romy scowled. She desperately wanted to yell at Einar and tell him to go away. The strange flip flop of her belly when he came around was still ever present. To make matters worse, Papa seemed to love Einar. They spent hours one afternoon talking about the galaxy and how it pertained to magic.

  As far as Romy was concerned, Papa was a traitor.

  “You know,” he started to gather the plants she had yanked out. “Most ladies like me.”

  “How pleasant for you,” Romy snapped without meaning to. “Put those down!”

  Einar looked from Romy to the plants and back again. “I think they are passed replanting.”

  “And I think you have no business telling me what to do with my garden,” Romy replied readily.

  It had been quite a shock when Romy had learned that despite Widow Hayes being a city dweller, Einar was one of the forest folk. Only in the kingdom he lived in, the different factions lived together in harmony.

  The forest folk that had lived around Papa had all moved on. It seemed that nobody wanted to be the scourge of society in their village, and who could blame them? Romy secretly wanted to know all about the place Einar had come from.

  But unfortunately, that meant getting friendly with the boy. That was one thing Romy wasn’t going to do.

  “Put them down,” she said between clenched teeth. “I know what to do with them.”

  Einar eyed Romy questioningly.

  Romy sighed and began to weed again. Only this time she paid far closer attention to what she was yanking out.

  “I can’t figure you out,” Einar said at last. “I don’t know if I have ever met a pricklier individual. But there is something about you, I just can’t put my finger on it.”

  Romy had a sudden image of Einar reaching out and using his finger to trace the curve of her cheek. Heat cascaded through her as she felt her cheeks pink. It was this reaction along that had Romy wanting to run for the hills.

  “Is your Papa up at the house?” he asked. “I have that book he let me borrow.”

  Einar reached around the pulled a book out of his knapsack. It was something about astrology.

  Romy nodded. “Why don’t you go on up and give it to him?”

  Einar watched her for a minute. “You know, Romy. We could be friends.”

  Friends? Romy had no idea how she could spend even more time around Einar without doing something that she would always regret. Besides, she had a best friend. Frieda’s emotions were on a roller coaster, constantly flipping from devastation about the curse to elation about the upcoming wedding.

  “I have a friend,” she said politely.

  Einar sighed and moved away from the garden. For a split second, Romy almost called him back over to her. But in the nick of time she was able to stop herself. It was better this way, she reasoned. She already walked on eggshells having Frieda know about her magic.

  What would happen if Einar found out? How would she be able to make him keep quiet? Romy shuddered, the last thing she ever wanted to do was spell Einar. Not wanting to linger on the reason behind that, Romy turned her head and watched as Einar walked up the path to the cabin and knock on the door.

  The minute he went inside and was out of sight, Romy felt that elastic snapping feeling again. It was the oddest feeling followed by intense sadness. Romy didn’t know what it could have been, but she wished she did so that she would never have to feel this way again.

  “Romy!” Frieda’s voice rang out just as Romy had replaced the green beans back into the dirt.

  “Just a minute,” Romy answered. Then she turned back to her plants, casting the spell that would send their roots back into their proper places. When the bright light faded, Frieda spoke. “How are you?”

  Romy smiled at her friend. “I think that is what I am supposed to be asking you.”

  Frieda leaned down and offered Romy a hand up. Tired from a long day in the garden, Romy eagerly took it.

  “Well,” Frieda asked. “What has you pulling out your beans?”

  Romy turned at with an arm motioned toward the cottage. “He came to talk to Papa.”

  Frieda’s lips twitched and her eyes seemed to dance with anticipation.

  “Don’t,” Romy warned.

  But Frieda had no intention of listening to her. “He has been coming around here an awful lot, Romy.”

  Romy started walking to the stream that wasn’t far from the cottage. Washing her hands in the cold water she frowned as her eyes came in contact with her misshapen arm. Why couldn’t she be beautiful like Frieda?

  “I think he fancies you,” Frieda added with a girlish squeal of delight.

  Romy tucked her arm behind her. A wave of disgust washed over her. Einar could never like someone who wasn’t—well, like Frieda. Boys had always been attracted to her. Was it any wonder that she was to marry the prince?

  Romy wrinkled her nose. Thomas was a bit of a prat, but quite a catch none the less.

  “Tell me what is going through that head of yours,” Frieda prompted.

  “I was thinking that my best friend can be far too nosey for my liking,” Romy retorted.

  Frieda laughed. She sat down beside Romy, removing her shoes, and sticking her feet into the stream. “This feels amazing.”

  Romy rolled her eyes. “You are most likely killing all of the fish with your stinky toes.”

  Frieda wiggled her toes in the water. “Take that, fish!”

  Romy couldn’t help the smile that stole across her face.

  “What?” Frieda grinned conspiratorially. “I know that my feet smell. I think it’s actually my secret weapon.”

  The girls fell into an easy companionship, talking about this and that while they unwind from their long day.

  “Thomas wants to marry as soon as possible,” Frieda said quietly.

  Romy shot her a look and was saddened to see the worry lines etched into Frieda’s forehead.

  “You can’t postpone it any longer?” Romy asked kindly.

  Frieda shook her head. “We have a month to try and find something that will break the curse.”

  “You know I have been looking,” Romy added hurriedly.

  Frieda leaned her head against Romy’s shoulder. “Do you think that I am making a mistake?”

  Romy shook her head. “No, you can’t allow Leon to dictate what you do with your life. We need to find some kind of spell or antidote. There has to be something that will help. In the meantime, however, I am worried that the moment you are wed. Thomas will want to start working on his heir.”

  Frieda blushed to the roots of her hair. “Romy!”

  Romy laughed, causing Frieda to lift her head and meet her smile for smile.

  “Are you scared?” Romy asked.

  “Petrified,” Frieda responded.

  ‘Well, it’s not worth doing if it doesn’t make your heartbeat wildly and your blood sing in your veins.”

  Frieda raised a brow. “Hmm.”

  “What?” Romy asked.

  “Oh, nothing. It’s just that I seem to think that someone ought to heed their own advice.”

  Romy frowned. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Frieda turned and pointed back toward the cabin.

  Romy’s from turned into a scowl.

  “No,” Frieda interrupted as Romy opened her mouth. “This time I get to be the one to advise you. Romy, you are a beautiful woman, inside and out. And don’t show me your arm as if I haven’t seen it nearly every day for the past nine years. That doesn’t make you less beautiful Romy. Maybe instead of spending so much time hating things about yourself. You could start seeing the good things instead.”


  Romy sighed. “I suppose I could try.”

  “I mean it,” Frieda warned. “Stop being so hard on yourself. You are my best friend. So, I mean this with love. Stop bullying yourself. I have had enough of it.”

  Romy was a bit taken aback by the firmness in Frieda’s voice. Was she too hard on herself? Maybe it was time to take inventory and make some changes.

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16-

  "I, Frieda, take thee, Thomas-”

  “Are you going to make that face?” Romy laughed as Frieda threw one of her pillows at her.

  “You aren’t helping you know,” Frieda scolded. However, from the way her lips twitched, Romy knew she wasn’t really angry.

  Romy clutched her chest dramatically. “After everything I have done for you, your ungrateful child!”

  Frieda laughed while Romy joined in. Frieda was dressed in her mother’s wedding gown. They had uncovered it in the attic as well as a pair of beautiful shoes to go along with it.

  Having something old and borrowed already taken care of. Romy had grown Frieda a gorgeous bouquet with lilies, white roses and irises in sky-blue. Never in all of their years of friendship had Romy seen Frieda look so lovely. And quite rightly, she told her so.

  “What about you?” Frieda pulled Romy in front of the mirror to stand beside her.

  Romy had to admit that the high waisted gown in the same color blue along with its tiny puffed sleeves and delicate tucks was the most beautiful thing she had ever worn.

  Her black hair, every bit as unruly as it had been when she was a child, laid in ringlet down to her behind. In her hands, Romy was carrying a bouquet that was just as beautiful as Frieda’s only slightly smaller.

  Romy had on special shoes that evened out her legs and for the first time walked without the pronounced limp that everyone was accustomed to. Her skin was clear, and her smile was wide. Granted her brows where every bit as thick and bold as they had been. But Frieda had somehow plucked them into submission.

  If Romy didn’t know better, she would almost consider the girl looking back at her in the mirror was rather lovely.

  A knock on the door indicated that it was time for the girls to leave.