Lies of Golden Straw
Page 26
One day, perhaps, my sons would be old enough to travel throughout the realms, visiting courts, spending time with allies, seeking and gathering the stories of the people who ruled, of faeries and dragons, of blessings and curses, of commoners raised up to be kings and queens, of magical little men and mages and shoemaking elves.
Until then, while I told them stories they would perhaps one day record for eternity, why not begin with a story of my own? Why not begin with my story? A story as fantastical and unreliable as one Father would spin, a blend of dream and reality equal parts incredible and true.
I looked into their too serious expressions and took a silent, deep breath. This would be the story I wanted written, the part of my life I wanted known, the way I wanted it told.
“Once upon a time,” I began, “I was naught but the miller’s daughter. But that time has passed and no one will ever call me such again…”
It all came to life before me as I spoke. A quaint little cottage perched upon a mill, its wheel slowly churning the water rushing downriver beside it. A noble boy with a startling purple gaze and a golden-haired girl in a shamrock-green gingham dress balancing on a log beside him. A village, a schoolhouse, farms dotted with grazing cattle, and rustling fields of ripe yellow wheat, tiny and beautiful from a bird’s eye view. The rumbling voice of a father who daily battled and lost his fight with the truth. A magical little man with mismatched eyes and a king who envisioned the world in a way no man ever would. And, finally, a girl without a name who would one day be a queen.
I told my sons my story, spinning it before their eyes as it came to life before mine, spinning it to life with words, words that glittered like threads of golden straw.
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THE END
The faery tales continue in
Beautiful To Me
coming early 2019
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BEAUTIFUL TO ME
Sneak Peek
Ever After
Once upon a time, I would not have found wonder in an idyllic snowcapped mountain range or beauty in the colors of the sky watching the sun set from land.
For I once lived in the enchanted kingdom of the sea where the sand glistens a deep cobalt blue and the surface most often ripples from flying fish and leaping dolphins. Though all waters are his domain and all creatures who dwell therein his subjects, there is a center of the underwater world where the Sea King built the castle he calls home.
Tales passed down through generations on land have tried to describe it, a silly notion at best as no human eye has ever seen it. None have seen the height of the coral walls, the tall amber windows, the glittering clamshells that open with the undulation of the waves above to spare a tantalizing glimpse of a luminescent pearl before snapping shut again. None have seen the vibrant colors of the ocean floor, the blue tinging golden-yellow tails a greenish hue, where the boldest and brightest of sea plants sway among a dazzling array of passing schools of fish. None have set sight on the rainbow of merfolk who sing and dance, celebrate and thrive, deep within the sea.
None, that is, but me. And though I have not seen my true home for so very long a while, I picture it clearly still. The heart, it would seem, does not always forget.
It’s been almost three hundred years, and though the ruling member of my human family may visit me once or twice a year, though I’ve traveled around the world and then some, it is a long time to be alone. One family of servants tends me, the secret of my life and identity passed from mother to daughter until the day I no longer need their care. As far as most others know, I’m already resting for eternity beside my husband instead of living in a small cottage nestled in the rocky cliffs washed by towering waves early each morning. Through the backdoor is a staircase that steps straight into the sea, much like the one that adorned the terrace of a palace I once called home.
My days are almost at an end; I know because of how the sea now calls to me. In every sunrise, the splash of the waves hints at the day I will leave the shore with them, when I will become part of them. In the moonlight, the shimmering of the water beckons me home, my true home, that wonderful, magical kingdom in the sea.
Before I answer its call, however, I am compelled to leave an account of my time on land, to honestly tell of how I went from an overlooked mermaid in the castle of the Sea King to the queen of a prosperous maritime kingdom. Claims need to be addressed, rumors need be put to rest, and a truth needs to be told.
In close to three centuries, I have heard many versions of the story about a young mermaid, a girl who wanted so much to be human, to have an immortal soul, she traded her tongue for a pair of human legs and the chance to live a human life. Over the years, the endings have varied. Some say she threw herself into the ocean and became part of the sea, others insist she still lives as a Daughter of the Air—a faery—and recently, a new thought believes she gained her happily ever after in marriage to her beloved prince.
None of those versions is accurate. Time and telling have twisted the truth, warping it to create something pretty but almost unrecognizable to the people who lived through it, especially because very few would have admitted to believing in mermaids then, certainly not as the two young foundlings living in the palace.
I know, because I was one of them.
So before I leave this earth, I will set everything down as best I can, well as I can remember it. Not just for me, for her, too.
The other mermaid. The one who died. The princess. Sienna.
But, to tell her story, and consequently mine as well, some things need be known to understand what occurred.
To start, Sienna was the youngest of the Sea King’s six daughters. She had long flaming red hair, bright blue eyes, and an enviable figure. Everyone she met thought her the most beautiful creature they’d ever seen. Everyone was right.
Next, the sea witch was never killed, but lives still, happily I presume, in her lair tucked into the shadows of the ocean. She isn’t called witch to her face, but by her given name, Tatiana. She has an important role in the enchanted kingdom, maintaining a significant balance of power as the night to King Trident’s day, the dark to King Trident’s light. She is not a cruel woman, but her blunt honesty and shrewd mind make her cold.
Plus, Sienna struck a bargain with the sea witch to become human in hopes of winning a prince’s heart, just as he’d accidentally won hers so completely the moment she spotted him on his ship. It didn’t end well for her. The prince fell in love with and married another woman, the one who saved him from drowning that infamously fateful night.
In short, my name is Ariel, and I was that other woman.
Acknowledgments
To the originals of the fables and tales, for being the building blocks of this series.
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To Caroline, for faerytale-worthy covers.
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To Miryam, for pushing these stories to be so much more.
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To my family and friends, for delighting in each new release with me.
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To you, dear Reader, for coming along.
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Thank you all.
THANK YOU FOR READING
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About the Author
E.L. Tenenbaum is fairly certain a bookstore is really the happiest place on e
arth. In addition to being an author, her love for stories in different shapes and sizes has led to a degree in journalism, a stint as a script reader, and a few runs as writer/director for community musical theater. When she's not reading, or writing, she enjoys speaking at middle/high schools as a visiting author.
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For more information about previous/current/upcoming work follow her on social media or visit :
www.ELTenenbaum.com
Also by E. L. Tenenbaum
With Fire & Ice Young Adult Books
End of Ever After Novels
End of Ever After
Lies of Golden Straw
Beautiful to Me (January 2019)
Human Again (2019)
Heart of a Hunter (2019)
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Novels
The Sapphire Legend, Part I
The Sapphire Legend, Part II
Silhouettes