The Rules of Ever After
Read The Rules of Ever After Online
Authors: Killian B. Brewer
Copyright © Killian B. Brewer, 2015
All Rights Reserved
ISBN 13: 978-1-941530-35-1 (print)
ISBN 13: 978-1-941530-42-9 (ebook)
Library of Congress PCN: 2015934641
Published by Duet, an imprint of
Interlude Press
http://duet-books.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and places are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, either living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.
All trademarks and registered trademarks are the property of their
respective owners.
Book design
by Lex Huffman
Cover Design
by Buckeyegrrl Designs
Cover Illustration
by @Depositphotos.com/Dazdraperma
Back cover illustration: R.J. Shepherd
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
To F, my prince.
rologue
O
nce upon a time, but about six months before
that
,
Mitta, the Wednesday fairy, snuffled awake and mindlessly flipped the pink tip of her right wing to swat at a fly buzzing around her ear. She was not sure how long it had been bumbling about her head or how it had managed to get into the castle, but the humming had been irritating enough to pull her out of her hazy nap.
In the years that had passed since her ward had last done anything to warrant a blessing, Mitta found she fell far too easily into sleep at any moment of the day. Her sisters had each lucked into at least two royal children to keep an eye on, but only one in this generation had been born on a Wednesday, her day. In the first few years after her ward's birth eighteen years ago, Mitta had thought having only one child to deal with was a pleasant break. The previous generation’s births had given her seven wards in the three great realms to watch over. She had almost worn her tiny wings to nubs flitting about the industrious lands of Clarameer to the south, the exotic luxuries of Osterling to the east and the quiet studiousness of Glorianna to the west to bestow blessings on births, marriages and other events. After that exhausting time, she felt she deserved an easy assignment.
However, as the years had passed, she had discovered that having just one child to watch over might have been enjoyable if he had been a more adventurous, happier child. He had been through some tough times at a young age and had needed her blessings to survive. Now, though, his life was just too quiet; she watched with envy as her six sisters popped in and out of Castle Geburtstag to tend to their wards while she sat idly in her room, feeling her wings grow weak and her once perky backside grow decidedly wider.
Slumping deeper into the light pink satin padding on the back of her chair, she heaved a deep sigh and stretched her short, chubby legs out in front of her until the amethyst-encrusted tips of her shoes peeked from the hem of her pink taffeta skirts. Stretching a little farther, she dipped the toes of her shoes into the late afternoon sun, which had begun its slow creep out of her room. A sunbeam tinted rose by the stained glass window across her room reflected off the jewels and sent tiny glitters of light dancing about on the walls. She twisted her ankle quickly back and forth to make the reflections twirl in frenzied curlicues all around her. Focusing on one particularly bright spot on the far wall, she wiggled her toes in an attempt to make it spell out her name. Yawning, she sighed. “Mitta, old girl, you are truly bored.”
Picking up the copy of the
Kingdom Inquisitor
that had dropped into her lap before she had nodded off, she glanced again at the headline. “King Robert Seen at Royal Ball with Princess Emmaline! Could a Royal Wedding Unite East and West?” Below the headline was a sketch of a handsome young man dancing with a raven-haired beauty. She knew her sister Dima was behind these developments and would make sure her two brightest wards ended up together.
“Well, happily ever after to you both,” Mitta snorted, as she tossed the paper onto the floor. Grabbing her silver wand from the small gilded table beside her chair, she grumbled, “Might as well check in on the boy. It’s been months, and surely he must be up to something now that he is approaching marrying age.”
She held the wand in front of her face and blew a quick breath through the large silver ring on the tip. A pink bubble formed on the rim of the ring and grew with each breath she huffed, until it slipped free with a slight popping sound. It floated and bounced in front of her, waiting for her to call up the image she wished to see. “Bubble, Bubble, bright and free, show the darling little Phillip to me,” she chanted as she dropped the wand back onto the table.
The interior of the bubble filled with pink smoke that swirled and roiled until a hazy image began to appear. “Wow, my reception is terrible today.” Mitta tapped the bubble. Inside, the image wavered but remained unclear. “Glasses, Mitta. Glasses,” she said, with a roll of her eyes, and then snapped her fingers. A pair of bright pink reading glasses appeared on the tip of her button nose. She leaned closer to the bubble and tilted her head to line up the image within the frame of her lenses. “Oh, to be six hundred again and able to see without these things.”
The smoke shifted, revealing the image of a slender young man who was leaning on the rails of a horse pen. His golden crown sat askew on his short brown hair and the hem of his azure doublet flapped slightly in a breeze. Phillip had grown at least two inches since Mitta had last checked in on him on his eighteenth birthday, and she was surprised to see that the gangly, knobby-kneed boy she expected had matured into a striking young man. He kicked aimlessly at the bottom rail of the fence with his left foot and cocked his head; his blue eyes stared at a shirtless, muscular man who led a stallion toward the castle stables. As the man passed, Phillip dropped his chin into his hands and sighed deeply; a far-away dreaminess clouded his eyes.
“Well, who’d have guessed that!” Mitta said with a small laugh. “Well, Philly,” she said and shrugged, “it appears Thora was right, and your gate swings to that side of the pasture! I should have checked in on you more often! Guess there won’t be an engagement or wedding for me to attend any time soon, unless you’re really good at playing ‘let’s pretend.’”
Just as she reached over to pop the bubble with her fingernail, she noticed the image of a petite girl walking up to the fence beside the prince. Her long red hair fell in ringlets from under a small tiara and bounced about her shoulders. A dark purple belt cinched tight her waist, and pale violet skirts flipped around her ankles with each step. Leaning back against the wooden railing beside the prince, she glanced up at him through her lashes and smiled slightly. She said something to him, and he looked at her with a polite grin. He responded, then turned his back to the railing to lean beside her. The girl’s shoulders shook as she giggled and rested her hand on his arm. He shook his head back and forth and removed her hand from his bicep. He turned to look into her eyes and said something else.
“Shoot,” Mitta cursed, as she batted the bubble. “I should have upgraded these things to include audio years ago.” Leaning closer to the wobbling bubble, she strained to read the young man’s lips. He took the girl’s hand in his own, leaned close to her face, and said something that made her blush. “Phillip, you little scamp! What did you say to her?” Watching the image of the young couple amble hand in hand toward the castle, Mitta cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “Maybe I misread this situation. I’ve got to show this to the girls! Finally, some progress!”
Hastily, she poked her fingernail into the bubble, and it disappeared with another small pop. She hopped down from her chair, grunting at the tightness of her bodice. “Mitta, you need to lay off the pastries if you’re finally going to be on the move again!” She brushed her hands down the front of her rosy skirts to smooth away any wrinkles and loosened the laces of her bodice. Stepping to the gilded mirror hanging on the wall, she inspected her makeup for any smudges or streaks created by her afternoon nap. She snapped her fingers, and the glasses disappeared. She patted her pink bouffant hairdo to push a few stay hairs back into place and then turned to her chamber door.
“Dagnabbit,” she spat as she looked back to the table and snapped her fingers toward her wand. It jerked up and flew across the room to her waiting hand. “Why can’t you ever stick close?” she chastised the wand as she shoved it into a small loop of fabric on the side of her waist. Flinging open the chamber door, she flapped her wings and rose a few inches off the floor. With a slight lean forward, she flew quickly down the hallway to the grand chamber where she and her sisters gathered.
“Oh, girls! It’s finally starting!” Mitta cried as she swept into the large, open hall. The breeze caused by her swift movement made the jewels hanging from the large chandelier in the middle of the room tinkle and the lace curtains over the tall windows flutter. She stopped abruptly as her eyes tried to adjust to the sudden darkness of the room. She could barely see her sisters sitting around the hall, all of them enthralled with the flickering images of their many wards on their magic devices.
“Geez, girls,” Mitta chastised, “why are you sitting in the dark? Caught up in your kiddos’ lives?” Mitta pulled her wand from her hip and flicked it toward the chandelier. The hundreds of candles on each branch flickered to life and brightened the room. Light reflected off the crystallized walls of the room and scattered tiny rainbows on the floor and on her sisters’ faces. Seven carved wooden chairs, each painted a different shade, circled a mahogany table in the center of the room. Two fairies sat at the table in the chairs that matched their dresses and hair—one pale blue and the other lemon. Two other fairies, one clad in violet and one in silver, lounged on plush couches at the edges of the room. Another stood by one of the tall windows and slowly took a deep pull from a bright orange pipe, then blew the smoke into the air.
“Did you hear me? I have news! Come see!” Mitta babbled, as she swept to her pink chair and dropped her wand on the table with a careless clunk.
“What now?” Luna growled, as she shifted her eyes from a glowing yellow glass orb she held in her right hand. “Things were just getting good with Daniel and Andrew. They were having an absolute row over Daniel setting out into the kingdoms. I’m so glad I cursed Andrew with that stubborn streak! He’s refusing to let his little brother go alone! What an absolute jackass he can be. These boys are drama gold! Better than anyone you girls have!”
“Yes,” Fria sighed, as she dropped the large sapphire jewel she had been staring into; it landed with a plunk on the table in front of her. She pushed a stray blue hair from her face and shot a look of disgust at her sister. “I couldn’t watch it anymore and had to change over to watch Princess Dinah playing with a kitten. I love when there are kittens. But you have certainly made things tough for my little Danny.”
“No tougher than you did with that ridiculous curse at his birth!” Saba snorted from a couch in the corner and blew out the candle burning before her. As the last curls of violet smoke dissipated, the image in the flame of a raven-haired girl arguing with an older man faded away. “Thank goodness I came up with a way to temper that mess. You could’ve killed the poor boy! That would hardly have been fair.”
“Pfft,” Fria scoffed as she waved her sister away. “I knew you’d fix it with your last blessing, and I thought it would spice things up a bit. At least it was original. Should I have done to him what Marta did to King Rupert the Second?” Turning to the girl lounging on the other chaise, she threw her hands up. “Really Marta, you make it so easy on Mitta with those ridiculous appearance curses. Acne? Buck teeth? Receding hairlines?”
“Well, pardon me!” Marta shouted and glared at her sister. She stopped playing with her long silver braid and dropped the hand mirror she was holding onto her lap. “That,” she whined, “was a perfectly reasonable curse! No one wants a bald king. It makes the crown slide off too easily! I thought it was rather creative of me to—”
“Girls!” Mitta shouted and pounded her wand on the table. “Aren’t you sick of these same old arguments? I have news! Wait, where is Dima?”
“Her ward, Prince Robert, might be proposing to Princess Emmaline tonight!” Marta squealed and clapped her hands. “Dima is off to give it a little nudge! Not interfering, mind you. Just a gentle push. If she pulls her usual tricks, we’ll be going to give the engagement blessings tomorrow. Before you know it, a new generation is starting! Couldn’t you just spit with happiness? If they have a child on your day, Mitta, you could finally get a prince or princess who is more exciting than the one you have now!”
“No! Wait until you see!” Mitta waved her hands to call her sisters over to her side. “There has been a development on that front! I thought for sure Dima saw it too, since I think the girl is her ward. I have exciting news! Prince Phillip is courting a bride!”
“A what?” Thora asked, as she turned to the table. She took a long draw on her pipe, blew orange smoke into the air and cocked her head. As the smoke circled her head, the image of a costumed young girl dancing on a stage appeared in the haze. “Are you sure you meant bride? Huh. I mean, I’m not judging but I didn’t think—”
“Yes! Look!” Mitta giggled, as she lifted her wand from the table and blew several quick breaths through the ring. A bubble quickly formed and floated before the assembled group.
“Oh, joy. Bring on the stupid bubbles,” Thora said with a roll of her eyes.
“I like my bubbles. They’re fun. And they look so pretty when the light reflects off them and makes little rainbows on the ground! They are certainly more fun than looking into the smoke from your nasty pipe. I swear, all that smoking has made you look ten times your two thousand years.”
“Lay off my wrinkles and just get this over with. What’s your little boy getting up to now?”
“He was escorting a young girl back to the castle! Just look and see!”
“Unchaperoned?” Saba gasped. “I hardly think that’s appropriate! I don’t think we should be looking into that bubble if we’re going to see what I think we’re going to see.”
“Hold on,” Mitta said with a confused look on her face. She leaned closer to the smoke-filled bubble but saw no image. “The bubble’s blank?”
“The spell, you nitwit,” Thora said, thumping her sister on the ear.
“Oops!” Mitta giggled. “Bubble, Bubble, full of joy. Show me what’s up with my frisky boy!” She snapped her fingers, and her glasses appeared on her nose. “Now let’s see…”
The smoke in the bubble shifted, and an image began to form. The young man sat on top of a large stack of mattresses. Beside him, the young redhead lay tucked under the coverlet, her curls splayed on the pillow. One after another, the fairy sisters exclaimed in surprise or delight as they watched the scene in the bubble unfold.
“What, by Godrick’s axe, is going on here?”
