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Authors: Betsy Schow

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BOOK: Spelled
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“It's not really a party until a fight breaks out and all seven dwarfs are passed out underneath the punch bowl.”

—
Excerpt from “How to Have a Blast at Your Next Ball” in
Fairy
Vogue

4
Hate at Second Sight

“Where the spell did she go?” I asked as if the night air might answer.

“Are you blinder than all three mice? I'm right here,” Verte answered and ambled toward me, her emerald staff making a
thunk-shuffle-shuffle
sound.

“Not you, the… Oh never mind.”

Tonight Verte wore her finest black muumuu with a matching pointy, and slightly crinkled, hat. She was also decked out in magic, from her staff to a silver belt inset with a giant emerald, intricately carved into the shape of an eye. The belt has given me nightmares since I was five, when I finally got the courage to wink at it—and it winked back.

“I've been asked to inform you that the king and queen want to introduce you to a new prince. There, consider yourself informed.” Task finished, Verte shuffled away, grumbling in low tones. “One of the most powerful sorceresses in all of story, reduced to a secretary, of all bubbling…”

She thumped her emerald cane against the stones that paved the garden paths. The stones brightened and glittered, illuminating the way back to the ballroom.

Fairy fudge. I should've known that's what all those messengers were about. I hurried to catch up with Verte. “So, who is it this time?”

“Who's on what time?” Verte said absently, focusing on a slight rustle in the bushes.

I swear, I've known cats that had longer attention spans than Verte. “The prince. Who's the royal reject they want me to meet now?”

“There.” Verte's hand struck out between my legs and under the bush at a speed that shouldn't be achievable by hunched old ladies. I squeaked in surprise as she drew back with a frog in hand. It uttered a pathetic and alarmed croak in protest. Verte studied the frog and then nodded in apparent satisfaction, turning her focus back to me.

“Is that the prince?” If so, he was on his own. There was no way in spell I was going to let my first kiss be with an honest-to-fairy-godmother slime ball.

Verte made a rude noise. “Don't be addled. This is Rexi, the kitchen girl. She shorted me on my frog legs yesterday. Had to get 'em another way.” She shoved Rexi under her hat. “Your prince and one true love is inside.” She puckered her lips a bit and waggled her hairy caterpillarlike eyebrows.

I screwed up my face. “Mother of Grimm!”

It was an extremely un-princesslike curse, one that could have gotten me turned me into Rexi's froggy friend for a week. I didn't care; I had bigger fairies to fry. Up until now, I had been dragging my silver-and-ruby heels back toward the party, but this had to stop. I began a brisk and determined stomp down the cobbled walkway.

Behind me, Verte breathed heavily and clip-clopped at a frantic pace, trying to keep up. “Wait one newt's tail, Dot. I'm not two hundred anymore.”

The childhood nickname gave me pause, just like it always did. But I stopped dead when a faraway look crossed her green face and the emerald eye turned cloudy. The air filled with the smell of overbaked bread, her signature magical scent—sure signs she was seeing something that no one else could. Which usually meant trouble.

“The pages are turning and there is more at stake than one girl's happiness. You'll have to make a choice and someone will lose. So for Grimm's sake, use your head.” She gave a resigned huff and bonked my forehead with her staff.

I
really
hated when she did that, went all “fortune cookie” on me. As if I didn't have enough to worry about.

Frustrated, I jammed my fists into my pockets in an attempt to calm myself. A sharp poke rewarded my efforts. The child's gift, still inside my cardigan, apparently had jagged edges that cut my palm. Ruby-red drops of blood stood in stark contrast to the brilliant white of the star.

The wind picked up slightly and chills inched their way up my spine. Cue creepy feeling that I was being watched—and not just by the frog, who was giving me the evil eye from under Verte's hat. I looked around, hoping to find the boogeyman that had caused my chills. Sure enough, staring at me through the ballroom window was quite possibly the most fearsome creature in all the realm—my mother. She shot me a look from atop her gold- and jewel-encrusted throne, which practically screamed that her patience was thinner than my father's hair.

Leaving Verte behind, I wove my way through the party, which was well past its prime. I had a little trouble getting by Snow White's little friends floundering around the punch bowl. One of them was trying to pry off Cindy's glass slipper. I'm not sure if he wanted to play prince charming or try on the high heel himself.

Once I maneuvered past them, I walked up the plush red carpeting, and my queenly mother ushered away all the lingering servants with a wave of her royal hand.

Standing up straight, I squared my shoulders and put all those years of princess training to good use. I hoped. “Mother, Father, I must insist that you stop all of this prince nonsense,” I started. Clear, concise, and with authority. “After tonight, there's no point in inviting any more of them to the palace.”

Before going on, I looked to my dad first to see how I was doing. If rubbing your temples with a grimace was a good thing, I was set. Mom's expression was more difficult to decipher—part bemused, part shark.

She rose from her throne and stalked toward me. “I agree. In fact, that's what I wanted to talk to you about all afternoon.”

“Really?” I squeaked.

She placed an arm around my shoulders. “Yes. You see, that love at first sight you hear naive princesses go on about is not real.”

Wow, two
talks
in one day. This must be a record. But as long as it got me what I wanted, I'd bear it.

Her voice turned soft. “True love is a lot like those lilies you favor. At first glance, it can be prickly and ugly. But with time and care, a precious blossom can grow. Unfortunately, we have neither at the moment.”

I wasn't really sure where this was going. “So just to be clear, you don't expect me to fall crown over heels for one of these princes I just met?”

“Correct. But civility and an open mind make a very good start.” The queen spun me around until I faced a young man with blue eyes. Not sapphire, like the stalker's—this color blue was much colder. Like ice water. The rest of his expression looked frosty to match.

“You!” I stomped toward him. He'd changed his clothes and combed his hair a bit, but I was still definitely staring down the gardener from before.

“Yes, and most unfortunately you as well.” He sighed and crossed his arms. “After meeting you earlier, I'd hoped you had a twin sister with a better temperament.”

My mother's cough sounded an awful lot like a laugh. “I see you've already met Prince Kato. That should make this a lot easier.”

“Or harder,” Father mumbled.

“Did you all drink the punch? Just look at him. This guy is no royal. Unless he's Lord of the Stableboys or something.” I corrected my previous judgment and wrinkled my nose since, up close, he smelled more like animal musk than dirt.

The air around him cooled, and with almost no movement, his posture changed. He hadn't grown an inch, yet the
prince
towered over me with a wry smirk. “Then you'd better get used to being Lady of the Stableboys.”

I turned to my mother, hoping for an explanation, but knowing I wasn't going to like it.

She sighed heavily and held her head like she was getting a migraine. “Perhaps you understand why I tried to do this earlier in a more private setting.” She turned her glare at Kato. “The king and I had hoped to
gently
let everyone come to terms with the idea—”

“That would change nothing,” the prince said, daring to cut the queen off. “The wedding is in one month and I will return the day before. She has that much time to get used to it.”

I couldn't breathe. “Wedding…month?” I managed to wheeze out.

No way. I would rather lick a toad. I would let a wicked old hag bake me into gingerbread before I married this son of a basilisk who had the gall to look amused while I hyperventilated.

Kato motioned to a nearby footstool. “You should sit down before you fall over and embarrass yourself further.”

My palm was in the air before I had even made a conscious decision to smack the smug off his face.

But it never landed.

His grip felt strong around my wrist. His hand was chapped and rough—from hard labor, I'm sure. And his fingernails were black. Not painted black. Actually black. One of them was even broken off in a contemptuous lack of good hygiene.

“You are a disgusting beast,” I snarled.

Instead of holding me off, he yanked me closer and lowered his lips to my ear so only I could hear what he was saying.

“And you are a useless princess who knows absolutely nothing of the real world. You would be the very last person I'd choose to chain myself to. But apparently both our kingdoms—no. The whole realm needs this alliance, so what we want doesn't matter. I will do what I have to do, regardless of my personal feelings, and
you
will
do the same. So sit down, grow up, and start acting like the kind of princess your people deserve.” He snapped off the last syllable and abruptly let go at the same time so that I stumbled backward.

That was it. Politics or not, he was going down.

I launched myself at the prince, and the next thing I knew, my feet were in the air and my father's arm was around my waist, most likely preventing an interkingdom incident. He hauled me back and dumped me unceremoniously on his oversized throne.

“If you'll excuse us for a moment, Prince Kato,” Mother said while Father held me down. “I need a word with my daughter.”

“By all means.” The prince bowed low and retreated. “Perhaps you will have more luck.”

“What has gotten into you, young lady?” my father demanded in a hushed yet urgent tone, a stern look frozen on his face—a look I was used to seeing from my mom but not from him. He was usually the nice one.

I made a big, round gesture meant to imply
everything
. “What is that beastly prince talking about with alliances, and how could I be engaged anyway? I never agreed to anything. I'm pretty sure betrothal involves both an asking and an acceptance.”

My mother chose to respond. “There was. Prince Kato explained why he needs you, and in your absence, we accepted on your behalf.”

“What?!” My jaw dropped. This made no sense. Why would he need me? He didn't even like me. Both he and my parents were out of their fairy-lovin' minds. Out loud, I said, “Is that even legal?”

My mother scoffed and pointed to her emerald crown. Oh yeah. The queen of the Emerald realm could do whatever she glam well pleased. “Once we explain everything to you in detail later—”

“No, I want to know now!” If my
fiancé
(bleh) could interrupt her, then so could I. “What's so important that nobody cared how I would feel?”

Father at least had the decency to look mildly ashamed. “Well, you see, it's rather complicated. But we figured you wouldn't mind, since you never showed any interest in the other princes—”

“Maybe I have no interest in getting married. To anyone. Ever. I mean, look how well yours turned out. You do everything she tells you, and then go hunting for weeks to hide while we're stuck in this gilded cage. No thanks. If I want to boss someone around, I'll get a dog.”

Immediately I knew I had gone too far. Even if both my parents hadn't gasped from the barbs of my sharpened tongue, my own heart was ashamed to beat within my chest. Before I could take it back, my mother hardened her face and gave me the look she was famous for—the one that caused grown men to fall on their knees and beg forgiveness before they were sentenced to death.

Her nose came within an inch of mine. “Contrary to your spoiled little beliefs, this is not all about you. This alliance is necessary for the safety of the entire realm. If, as crown princess, you do not feel a responsibility to protect your kingdom, then by Grimm, you will follow the rules of this land and obey your queen.”

What started out as a rumble in my mother's throat had ended in a roar. Before, only those close to the thrones could hear what was going on; now, everyone in the room went quiet and still as statues.

My face heated—from shame, anger, humiliation, frustration… Pick one. There had to be a way out of this. Tears threatened along the edges of my lashes, but I willed them away. I'd rather be boiled and feathered than let them all see me cry.

Every eye turned to me as I rose to regal height with my nose ever so slightly in the air. On the outside, I was as cold and unfeeling as a block of ice. Inside, a fire of indignation burned brighter and hotter than the three suns.

I walked away from my parents. Each step brought me closer to a confrontation with the prince, who stared at me with pity now, instead of his usual disdain.

I searched for something, anything, to ground me and keep me from running away. Once again, the twinkling stars on the Story Spruce caught my eye. Wishing had never worked before, but then again, I'd never been this desperate. With the tree too far away, I reached in my pocket for the next best thing. My hand clenched around the child's star, the earlier cut flaring to life.

I
wish
I
didn't have to do this, that the rules and everything else governing this stupid world would just disappear, and I'd never have to listen to my parents ever again.

The ache in my hand shifted from a prickle to a burn. I pulled it out of my pocket to take a closer look. It was glowing. Well, my hand wasn't glowing, but the star was. I opened my palm, and rays of light shot out from the gift. Dots seared my vision.

BOOK: Spelled
4.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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