by Sarah Noffke
After a long moment, Paris nodded. “It’s fine. I know I’m making things harder for myself by not talking about what happened with the Deathly Shadow and my parents, which makes everyone gossip and speculate.”
Christine nodded. “Finally! You get it. So end the rumors and come out with it. We know you survived, obviously, unless you’re one hell of a ghost. But what’s going on with your parents? What happened in the showdown?”
Paris pursed her lips, knowing that her friends meant well. The truth was, coming clean about it all was mostly about her not wanting to admit all that had happened. It had been her demon blood that saved her. Afterward, the father of time cut their reunion short because her parents had passed through back into their universe. She wasn’t with them, and now, although the Deathly Shadow was gone, there was a hole in her heart.
“I faced the Deathly Shadow,” Paris began, her voice slow. “And I was able to put him in the container and open the portal.”
“Wow, you’re horrible at storytelling,” Christine teased. “A bit of suspense and lead up goes a long way in keeping your audience’s attention.”
Paris laughed, grateful for her friend making light of all this and easing the tension. “My parents are back, and they are…well, that’s yet to be seen. They’re adjusting.”
“So you haven’t seen them?” Chef Ash asked.
“I have,” Paris answered. “Briefly and it was weird, and well, we’ll see…”
“I think this situation will take time to mend,” Hemingway offered sympathetically.
Paris nodded. “Yeah, they’ve been through a lot, and Papa Creola says they have to acclimate, so I’m waiting and hoping to see them soon.”
Chef Ash offered her a thoughtful expression. “I know they can’t wait to see you.”
“So that was it?” Christine asked. “You faced a deadly villain that’s been hunting you all your life, opened a vortex, and rescued your parents? That’s what you couldn’t tell us a week ago?”
Hemingway gave her a look that said, “Don’t be so insensitive.”
Paris lowered her chin. “My parents, although gone from this timeline for fifteen years, were only in the other universe for a single day.”
Christine’s mouth popped open. “Okay, mind totally blown. Now I get why you haven’t wanted to pony up the details. You’re more like your mom’s sister at this point.”
Paris nodded. “It’s complicated. The time gap is the main reason Papa Creola wants to give them time to recover before putting them back in the real world. So I’ve been hanging out and waiting.”
“That has to be difficult,” Penny offered, her expression thoughtful.
“I’m glad that they’re back and hopefully things can return to normal. I don’t have to look over my shoulder anymore. My family, who redesigned their entire life for me, can hopefully return to the way they were. I don’t know what that means for my Uncle John and the rest, but it sparks a new era for the Beaufonts.”
“Your family hasn’t had it easy, but they loved you very much to sacrifice so much,” Chef Ash imparted.
“She’s the only halfling magician and fairy in the world,” Christine insisted. “She’s a big deal.”
“I’m not,” Paris argued.
“Father Time has been working to keep you alive,” Christine countered. “I don’t think he gives two licks about the rest of us.”
“He does,” Paris said, then added, “Well, Mama Jamba does, and she probably makes him care.”
“Mama who?” Christine asked.
“That’s Mother Nature’s name to those she knows well,” Chef Ash explained.
“Oh, like our resident royalty here.” Christine held out a presenting hand to her friend.
“I’ve only met her once,” Paris demurred as if needing to defend against the idea she was royalty. She was though, by House of Fourteen standards, and she was from a founding family of magic, making her more powerful and considered elite.
“She’s the one who created the fairy godmothers,” Chef Ash explained while pulling the pencil he always kept there from behind his ear.
“Well, she created everything, now didn’t she?” Hemingway countered with a sideways grin.
Chef Ash nodded, tapping the pencil on the table and conjuring his notebook where he kept sketches of his various designs for recipes. “That’s right. Specifically, she founded Happily Ever After College, which then created the foundation for FGA and she put Saint Valentine over it all.”
“Because love is what makes the world go ‘round,” Christine sang.
“And Mother Nature needs the world to keep spinning,” Hemingway added.
“However, the FGA that she created is different than what it came to be, and it’s evolving even now,” Chef Ash explained.
“I heard rumors,” Hemingway began, “That Mother Nature wanted something that created love worldwide, but she often has gone into hiding throughout the centuries. She’s only just returned. It was a dragonrider who brought her back this time. Someone with a blue dragon—”
“That would be my Aunt Sophia,” Paris interrupted.
Christine laughed. “Of course it would be.”
The others joined as many of the other students finished up and moved out of the dining hall.
Chef Ash patted his notebook. “All this talk about Mother Nature gives me an idea for some meals—things with lots of spring and summertime vegetables to celebrate the seasons. I’m going to go work on it.” He glanced at Paris. “I’m glad your parents are back, and you’re safe. I’m sure things will continue to get easier with time.”
She smiled in reply as he moved off.
“I better follow him out,” Hemingway stated. “I have things to get ready for today’s lessons. You all are in for a treat.”
“Can’t wait,” Christine muttered, not sounding at all excited. “I won’t clean under my fingernails.”
Hemingway wagged a finger at her. “Just you wait and see.”
The two stood and made their way for the entrance, leaving Paris and Penny alone at the table while many bustled around them. Paris turned to her friend and smiled.
“I wanted to say thank you for your words of wisdom before I faced the Deathly Shadow,” she began, thinking back to that moment. “Although simple advice, remembering to believe in myself really helped when it came time…well, and also my demon blood.” She laughed, thinking of how strange that had come to help her so much.
Penny’s eyes went wide. “You have demon blood?”
“Apparently,” Paris stated. “I mean, it’s why my parents asked a genie to help me, and I became half-fairy. However, I still have the blood of a demon, which I guess is counteracted by being a fairy. Let’s hope it’s mostly dormant in me.” She laughed again.
However, her friend was deadly serious but still nodded. “That makes sense. Demons don’t mess with fairies. We’re too loving and emotional for their tastes, I think. They mostly go after magicians and mortals, from what I’ve heard. Wow, that’s fascinating about how you became a fairy. I had no idea.”
Paris shrugged and stood. “No one does, really. Only my family. Well, regardless, thanks for your help. It meant a lot.”
Penny beamed and joined her friend. “I’m glad I could help.”
The two moved off for their first classes, not seeing that hiding in the crowd close by and eavesdropping once more was none other than Becky Montgomery.
She released a wicked smile as she stepped forward, glancing at the spot where the halfling had been moments prior. “If the board didn’t like it before that a magician was at the college, they are going to hate to find out there’s a demon in our midst.”
Chapter Five
A figure who Paris didn’t recognize stood in the middle of the classroom where she normally attended Art of Love. Backing up, she glanced outside the room, checking that it was the right place. It was.
It was so strange to see a man standing at the front of the classroom.
Unlike Wilfred, Chef Ash, and Hemingway—the only other men at the college—this one stood out in a bizarre way that Paris couldn’t pinpoint.
The man wore an all-black suit, but unlike Wilfred, who wore the very tailored butler’s uniform, there was an element of superiority to this stranger’s appearance. He had a chiseled jaw and slicked-back black hair. When he glanced up at Paris, there was a scrutinizing glint in his brown eyes. He ran his gaze over her, obvious disapproval on his face that she wasn’t wearing the fairy godmother blue gown.
“You must be Miss Paris Beaufont,” he said in a refined tone, very much like Wilfred but with actual distaste audible.
“And you are?” She took her seat at the front of the class as usual.
He pursed his lips. “I’m Agent Topaz, and I’m taking over for Headmistress Starr, teaching Art of Love.”
“Why?” Paris’ question earned many conspiratorial whispers behind her. “Where is Headmistress Starr?”
Agent Topaz sighed, his eyes shifting to the side as if he was trying to decide whether to answer her or not. “She’s been replaced as the instructor for this class. The FGA wants to be more involved with the college’s curriculum, and therefore they’ve assigned me to teach this class as well as a few others.”
So this was one of the agents at the FGA who supervised fairy godmothers. She’d heard about these guys. Only men were part of the FGA, the way only women could be fairy godmothers. It was a strange hierarchy, but Paris had tried to maintain an open mind about the rather archaic-seeming organization. Maybe that was how Mama Jamba had set it up, or it hadn’t evolved, or it had devolved through the years.
“Now, today, we’re going to be studying historical events where fairy godmothers were critical to important unions,” Agent Topaz continued, an air of dominance in his tone, his chin held high as he glanced around the classroom of students. “Many have no idea that the FGA was responsible for the most important matches in history. If it wasn’t for the work led by many Saint Valentines of the past, we wouldn’t have had such influential couples as Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy, Pierre and Marie Curie, Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner, as well as many other notable couples who advanced everything from economics to art and science.”
Paris crossed her arms over her chest and sat back. “So we have the FGA to hold responsible for the absurd popularity of abstract expressionism paintings?”
Agent Topaz’s eyes widened suddenly, obviously not used to being interrupted or having a student challenge him in such a way. “Miss Beaufont, Krasner’s support of Pollock’s career was crucial to creating an artistic movement.”
“I believe that she put her career on hold to support his,” Paris countered. She’d been devouring books on every subject over the last week to take her mind off her problems.
“That was foretold and critical for Pollock’s artwork to break out and make millions of dollars,” Agent Topaz countered.
“So it was about money?”
“Let’s get one thing quite clear, Miss Beaufont,” Agent Topaz began in a sharp-edged voice as his face flushed red. “Matchmaking by fairy godmothers has always been about pairing the rich, influential, and those of high status together. It isn’t our job at FGA to worry about how commoners match up. History proves that when important people create a union, critical things come out of it.”
“So this isn’t really about creating true love for two people then? It’s about deals and money and border agreements?”
“It’s never been about true love,” Agent Topaz nearly stuttered, spit flicking from his lips. “That’s exactly why I’m here. This romantic notion has been spreading across Happily Ever After College and our fairy godmothers at FGA for too long, and the consequences are becoming more apparent.”
Paris couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, how absurd to think that a place called Happily Ever After would be about creating love for Cinderellas and Prince Charmings. Of course, this has always been about trade negotiations and unions that benefit society rather than about a product of true love.”
“Miss Beaufont, what we do spreads love, but that’s a result of matching the right people. How many relationships do you think were sparked because of John F. Kennedy’s devotion to Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis or Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash’s relationship on stage?”
“Good point,” Paris said. “Is FGA also responsible for matching up Jay-Z and Beyonce, John Lennon and Yoko Ono, or how about David and Victoria Beckham?”
He narrowed his eyes at her but didn’t answer, which was answer enough for her.
“So we can thank FGA for putting together alliances for career benefits? Or power couples who popularize unhealthy images? Or splitting up the—”
“That is quite enough,” Agent Topaz interrupted, his eyes bulging.
The students around Paris all fell deadly silent.
“My point is that I don’t know that our focus should be to pair up the wealthy and self-inflated at the expense of ignoring creating true love for real people,” Paris argued, not standing down. “Who are we to judge what will increase the love meter? Maybe some famous couples like Wesley and Buttercup from The Princess Bride inspire love.”
“They aren’t a real couple,” he cut in.
“That’s my point,” Paris stated with confidence. “If our motivation is to pair up two people who inspire love worldwide, then we don’t have to sling together two famous people. In this class, when Headmistress Starr taught it, we learned about poetry, music, and movies that have inspired romance. Shouldn’t our focus be on creating love for all people? Not only the rich and annoying?”
“No!” Agent Topaz boomed, throwing his fist down on the desk in front of him. “That is a waste of our time. Before you derail this conversation any longer, I’ll prove how important our jobs are because we focus on pairing up the right people.”
He pulled a silver pocket watch from his suit. On the front was a large flat topaz gem. Pointing it at the wall beside him, Agent Topaz muttered an incantation and an image projected onto the space—displaying a movie of sorts.
“Now watch and learn how FGA is responsible for the most important unions in history. This is one of our most significant accomplishments.”
Chapter Six
“Cleopatra and Marc Antony?” Paris announced when two figures materialized on the projected movie screen.
Agent Topaz rolled his eyes. “Oh, good, you do know your history.”
“I do,” she affirmed, watching images of the ruler of Egypt as she rode through an elaborate procession on the screen. “I know that the two influential leaders during the Egyptian empire made some advancements. Cleopatra was the first female pharaoh, was educated and created much change for Egypt. ”
“Exactly!” Agent Topaz exclaimed. “Now, as you can see, Cleopatra protected Egypt from Rome—”
“She also lost the throne to Rome,” Paris argued. “Not to mention that Marc Antony left her and his children with her for years to marry another woman. In the end, she orchestrated her husband’s death and committed suicide out of guilt.”
“That is irrelevant,” Agent Topaz fired, pausing the movie playing with his pocket watch.
“I think that it’s very relevant,” Paris countered. “There might have been benefits from the union, but the indulgences of two people might have also been the downfall of the Egyptian empire. How are we to know?”
“We know,” Agent Topaz said through clenched teeth, restarting the movie. “Here we see Cleopatra entering Tarsus where Antony was. It was fairy godmothers who orchestrated this elaborate entrance, knowing that it would attract the indulgent tastes of Marc Antony.”
Paris watched as Cleopatra was carried through the city on a canopy bed by boys dressed as Cupids. The pharaoh fanned herself, dressed as Venus. All around them were a great entourage, all in costumes as well. Paris couldn’t help but think of how many impoverished and hungry they could have fed if they’d spent the pageantry’s money in other ways in
stead.
“How romantic,” a girl at the back of the class gushed.
“It was,” Agent Topaz affirmed. “And it worked to get Marc Antony’s favor. He was instantly smitten with our pharaoh, and their union has been famous throughout history, a model of romance and power.”
“Again, the two love birds pretty much committed suicide,” Paris said dryly, feeling like the only person really thinking about this critically.
“They were in love and had chemistry, according to history,” Becky Montgomery argued.
Paris spun to face her. “Antony left Cleopatra when she was pregnant to marry another woman. Wow, if that’s love, then never ever sign me up.”
“As if anyone would fall for you like Antony did for Cleopatra,” Becky fired back, her freckled nose drifting into the air.
“Yeah, I think I dodged a bullet there,” Paris stated.
“Thank you for your thoughtful input Becky.” A smile flicked to Agent Topaz’s mouth. “The Montgomerys always know their history well.”
“I think they know it selectively, it seems.” Paris turned back to the front.
“I will urge you not to talk about an influential family at FGA in such a way,” Agent Topaz scolded.
Paris held up her hands as if in surrender. “I won’t talk about Bec’s family if she stops talking about mine.”
“The Beaufonts don’t have a reputation among fairies,” Agent Topaz said coldly, looking down at her.
“I believe you’re the one who needs to brush up on your history, Agent Topaz. My parents saved magic so that we can all be here right now. My aunt has saved this planet numerous times. And—”
Agent Topaz narrowed his eyes at her. “If you’re so proud of your magician family, maybe you’d be better suited with them than here at Happily Ever After College.”