Wicked Ugly Bad (A Kinda Fairytale)

by Cassandra Gannon

  “It’s your kingdom now, highness. We can do whatever you decree.”

  Cinderella beamed. “Well, finally the world makes sense, then. Keep going with the vows.”

  Scarlett ignored that inanity. She raced forward, all her attention on Marrok. The concentrated burst of purple smoke was dissipating quickly, which was fortunate since she wasn’t thinking clearly enough to wait.

  “Marrok?” She collapsed to her knees beside him. “What kind of kamikaze bullshit was that?! Huh?!” Scarlett stared down at his still face and tried to breathe. “Don’t do this to me! When you said you’d die for me, it was supposed to be metaphorical! Open your eyes. Please open your eyes.” She shook his shoulder trying to rouse him. “Marrok.”

  He had to wake-up. She couldn’t survive without him. He was her True Love.

  Scarlett froze.

  Wait… He was her True Love.

  Letty could’ve cried as relief flooded her system. She could fix this. The purple smoke wasn’t permanent. It could be cured with True Love’s kiss! Suddenly, Marrok’s plan didn’t seem quite so suicidally stupid, after all. He’d set this up because he’d known she could awaken him, again.

  She leaned over, her mouth finding his.

  This had to work. If it didn’t, she’d beat him to death in his sleep. The smooth warmth of his lips beneath hers caused her insides to dip. Even unconscious, the man was addictive. If she lost him, she had no idea what she would do. Marrok meant everything to her. He was…

  …kissing her back!

  He was kissing her back!

  Within seconds, Marrok was awake and participating in the embrace. One big hand came up to tangle in her hair, pulling her closer. Scarlett found herself smiling widely as he tugged her down on top of him.

  “Oh thank God.” She drew back to touch his cheek with her palm. “Don’t you ever do something like that again! You almost gave me a heart attack, you jackass! You don’t get to plan anything else without telling me. What would’ve happened if something went wrong?”

  “What could’ve gone wrong? You’re my True Love.” He grinned. “I knew you’d save me.”

  Scarlett looked into his clear golden eyes and saw total trust. How could she be mad at someone who had such complete faith in her? She shook her head. “You and I are just destined to save each other forever, I think.”

  “All the more reason you should propose soon.”

  Scarlett nearly laughed. There just wasn’t a better time to do this than when they were surrounded by people in mystical comas, and Cinderella was trying to take over the world, and Charming was chained to a pillar. She and Marrok didn’t do anything the traditional way.

  “Are you sure you want to be my husband? Even after this?

  “Baby, I’m positive. I vote we go home to the Enchanted Forest and corral a non-rodent minister, right after we’re done here.” He gave her another kiss, his voice dipping lower. “And, by the way, I’m already your husband.”

  Scarlett kissed him back. “I know.” She used the jagged glass from the broken vial to slice through the binding on her wrists. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back with your proposal.” She handed the glass to him so he could free himself and quickly stood up, heading for her stepsister.

  “Uh-oh.” Cinderella watched her advance and began to look worried. “Jack, skip to the ‘pronouncing us man and wife’ part.”

  “Highness, I think we should get out of here before…”

  “Just do it!”

  He glanced back down at his wedding script, his voice racing over the final words. “By the power vested in me by her resplendently majestic Cinderella, I… Shit!”

  Scarlett stopped the ceremony by punching the bride.

  Jack caught Cinderella as she careened backwards. The two of them went tumbling into the floral arch above the altar. The whole rose-covered monstrosity tipped over in a crash of pink petals and crystals.

  “Have you lost your mind?!” Cinderella cried. Shoving Jack away, she stumbled to her feet. She batted the crushed flowers from her hair with an agitated hand, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. “You’re ruining my wedding. Letty!”

  “You sicced a dragon on my True Love, stole my sister’s prince, locked us in prison, burned down my grandmother’s house, and tried to kill us with flying monkeys.” Scarlett shouted back. “To hell with your tacky wedding!”

  “Tacky?” Cinderella gasped. “Do you know how much these decorations cost? This wedding is befitting a true princess!”

  “You aren’t a princess!” Anger was coursing through Scarlett’s body, driving her onward. “Drusilla is the princess. You are the psycho who’s kidnapped her groom.”

  “Dru’s nothing but an ugly stepsister. She doesn’t deserve Charming or my palace!”

  Scarlett hit her, again.

  “Highness!” Jack gasped at Cinderella fell to the floor. His beady eyes narrowed at Scarlett. “How dare you strike the ruler of the Westlands, you bitch…” His insult stopped mid-word as Marrok leveled a gun at him.

  “I wouldn’t.” Marrok advised.

  Jack’s mouth slammed shut so fast his pointed teeth clinked together. He raised his hands in surrender.

  “Coward!” Cinderella gave him a shove.

  Marrok grabbed a set of keys from Trevelyan’s belt. The dragon wasn’t waking up unless his True Love arrived and, honestly, that didn’t seem real likely. For all intents and purposes, he and the sleeping rats were incapacitated forever.

  Stepping over the dragon’s eternally slumbering body, Marrok headed for Charming. “Here.” He tossed him the keys to the dog collar and chain. “Get out of there. You have a bride to save.”

  Charming quickly freed himself. “Nothing can stop me from reaching Drusilla, now.” He proclaimed grandly. He gazed at Letty and Marrok in deep gratitude. “I owe you everything.”

  “No shit.” Marrok agreed.

  Scarlett rolled her eyes at that typical display of tact. “Charming, you and Dru belong together. Of course we’ll do whatever’s necessary to see you reunited and happy. We know what it means to have a True Love, don’t we, Marrok?”

  Marrok flashed her a smile. “We sure do, baby.”

  “I am Charming’s True Love.” Cinderella screeched. “You may have ruined this wedding, but I’ll have another and another and another until I have him!” She darted for the exit, her tiara sitting lopsided on her head. “Nothing will stop me from having what’s mine! No matter what I have to, I’ll…”

  She threw open the door and ran straight into dozens of pissed off Bad folk.

  Scarlett grinned as Cinderella’s escape was blocked by all the people she’d treated like dirt. Letty couldn’t have been a hundred percent sure that her pointed remarks to the camera would inspire anything, but she’d hoped.

  Now, Bad folk were standing up for themselves. Not allowing Cinderella to take what was theirs. Stopping her from fleeing justice. Cindy tried to backup, her eyes wide with horror, but there was no place for her to go.

  “You’re headed to jail.” Scarlett watched as her stepsister was seized by Charming’s staff. “Take it from someone who knows: It’s not the honeymoon spot you’ve fantasized about.”

  “You can’t do this to me!” Cinderella seethed. “I am Princess of the Westlands!”

  “Actually, you’re about to be prisoner number one of the new and improved WUB Club. Don’t worry. I have it all planned in my head. We don’t torture and starve people anymore, but it’s a hell of a lot harder to break out.” She stalked over to grab the crown of Cinderella’s head. “And I’ll be taking that for my sister.”

  Cinderella gave a shriek of indignation as she was dragged away.

  “Well, that was fun.” Marrok came to stand beside Scarlett and arched a brow. “So… Something you want to ask me?”

  She glanced up at him and bit back a smile. “You already know what I want to ask you.”

  “Tell me anyway. I like the words.”

&nb
sp; “Oh alright.” She heaved a mock sigh. “Do you want to marry me or not?” She demanded, paraphrasing the same words she’d used to convince him to escape the WUB Club with her.

  He pretended to think it over, looking amused. “It depends. Can we have ice swans at the reception?” He gestured towards Cinderella’s buffet table, where the stupid sculptures were already beginning to melt.

  “Nope.”

  “Well, what do you know… We really do think alike.” He hugged her close and let out a contended breath. “I am yours, baby.” He whispered in a more serious voice. “I’d die to marry you.”

  “Well, there’s always the possibility you might.” She wrapped her arms around him and gave him once last chance to make the rational choice. “There will probably be a lot more days just this weird in your future. Dangerous, insane things just happen around me. Felonious grandmothers, and founding kingdoms for Baddies, and escaped mental patients. Are you really prepared for all that?”

  “Yep.”

  “Good.” She gave him a smacking kiss. “Because, I’d just talk you out of it if you tried to leave me. I’m pretty good at convincing people to do crazy stuff, you know.”

  “Trust me, I’m not going anywhere, Red.” His hand wrapped around hers, holding tight. “You are my very own happily ever after.”

  Epilogue

  Every person in the Northlands adored their generous prince. He brought sunshine into the grim lives.

  Even if those peasants didn’t deserve it.

  The Official and Authorized Biography of Prince Avenant

  The dream came as it always did.

  Every night since Avenant escaped, Belle relived the same memory, as vivid as it had been all those years before. She was back at the auction, watching her family’s possessions get sold to the highest bidder.

  It was the only way to settle the debts that her parents had left, but it meant that everything she had --everything that was familiar and safe-- was being ripped away. Belle sat silently on her father’s armchair, which would only be hers for another few moments, and wished she could feel hatred for the people preying on her misfortune.

  All around her, her neighbors meandered through the house, scrutinizing her belongings and appraising their worth. Dimly she heard comments about the quality of a rug or the weight of a silver candlestick. A few people had the decency to lower their voices. Most didn’t bother.

  Belle was too numb to even feel violated by the mercenary invasion.

  She just wanted it to be over.

  She had no idea where she’d go after the auction. There was no place for her stay that night or any night after. Her parents had been beautiful flighty people, who’d expected their innately bookish daughter to be the same. Because she’d tried to make them happy, she didn’t have a job. Didn’t have any money. All of her friends were actually her parents’ friends and beautiful flighty people didn’t make deep connections. Belle was all alone.

  She was too numb to care about that, either.

  She was beaten.

  A butterfly was flitting in the garden outside the window. She watched it through the glass, mesmerized by its dance through the flowers. So much of the year, the Northlands was white and cold. The brief days of summer always seemed like magic with their warmth and color. If her parents had to die, at least their final memories were of the strong sun and brilliant greens surrounding them.

  The auctioneer was loudly listing off the key features of her mother’s art collection. It all sounded like white noise. Someone held up a painting of abstract shapes that Belle had always hated. So had her mother. But, the artist had been the height of fashion two years before, so of course she’d bought the biggest canvas in his studio. Belle watched as it sold for a tenth of what her mother had paid for it and didn’t feel a thing.

  “What a hideous painting. Honestly, you’re better off without it.”

  Belle turned to see Avenant standing beside her chair. Of course, he’d show up to gloat when she was at her lowest. She was just surprised that she hadn’t seen him enter. Usually, she was morbidly aware of his presence. It went to show how far gone she was in her depression.

  “I should’ve known you’d come.” She muttered.

  “Yes, you should have.” To celebrate her misery, Avenant wore the white and gold regalia of the palace, complete with the circular crown of the prince. His stunning face surveyed the goings on with a sardonically amused expression. “How could I miss the social event of the season?”

  Belle watched as her father’s chess set went on the block. He hadn’t played, but the game had been a decoration in the study for as long as she could remember. She had a brief flash of moving the pieces around the board as a child while her father laughed.

  It sold to the obnoxious neighbor down the street for fifteen gold pieces.

  Avenant made a scoffing sound at the price. “Everyone here is astoundingly cheap.”

  “If my parents had been cheaper, maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess.” The family china was up next. Belle turned her head away, not wanting to see it go. It was one of the few things she had left of her grandmother.

  “Are they really going to sell one object at a time?” Avenant checked his watch. “This will take forever.”

  “Feel free to leave if my poverty is cutting into your busy schedule.”

  “Not until I have what’s mine.”

  “Nothing here is yours, Avenant.”

  He arched a brow at her. “We’ll see about that.” He turned towards the auctioneer and raised an imperious hand. “Six million.” He called casually.

  Belle’s attention snapped back to him. The last bid on the china had been forty gold pieces. Was he out of his mind?

  The auctioneer clearly hoped so. “Six million, Prince Avenant?” He repeated eagerly. “Well, I don’t think anyone will go higher on this lovely lot of…”

  “Six million for all of it.” Avenant interrupted. “The furniture, the house, the garish plates. I’ll take everything.” He looked around. “Anyone want to up my bid?”

  No one did.

  It was double what the estate was worth. Enough to pay off the debt and then some.

  Avenant was going to win it all.

  “You really are a beast.” Belle whispered.

  Avenant ignored that. He smirked as the auctioneer’s gavel came down and he bought everything she owned. “See? All mine.” He headed over to the mantle where the first place trophy Belle had received in high school debate still sat. “This should have gone to me.” He picked it up, his eyes glowing with triumph. “Now, I finally have it.”

  Rage filled her.

  For the first time since her parents died, Belle was consumed with honest and real emotion. It felt wonderful. “I won that debate and you know it, you bastard!” She surged to her feet and advanced on him.

  All their lives, the two of them had been locked in an endless conflict. Belle wasn’t even sure how it had happened. In school, they consistently scored one and two on every assignment and activity, so their only competition had been each other. It led to an unhealthy rivalry. Why the hell had Avenant joined the debate club if not to screw with her? Why had Belle volunteered for the dance committee if not to try and block his chances at being prom king?

  The one-upmanship hadn’t faded when they reached adulthood. It was like they sought each other out to continue their private battle. Avenant loomed over her, smiling smugly and holding her trophy… and, in that second, Belle knew she wasn’t beaten.

  She would never surrender to this man.

  “Belle, you know I won that debate.” He goaded. “The judge on the end was swayed by the length of your skirt, not your arguments.”

  “Well, you bribed the other judge, so I figure it all evens out.” She tried to grab the trophy back from him, but he held it out of reach.

  “Don’t be such a sore loser.” He taunted. “It’s mine, fair and square.”

  “You son-of-a-bitch! You think you can jus
t steal my life away and I’ll…”

  Avenant cut her off. “Oh, I don’t want the rest of this stuff.” He waved a hand around to indicate the fortune in lands and fixtures and objets d’art he’d just purchased. “Keep it all.”

  Belle blinked. “…keep it?”

  “Well, what would I do with low quality furnishings?” He glanced over to the auctioneer. “Send someone to the palace to collect your money and return the woman’s belongings.”

  “Of course, sire.”

  Avenant looked back Belle. “See? I can be gracious in victory. You should be used to that by now.”

  He wanted to take everything from her and then just give it back? Just to prove he could? Just to revel in her humiliation? He honestly thought she’d let him get away with that?

  “You’re going to regret this.” She vowed softly.

  Icy blue eyes gleamed as he studied her furious face. “I doubt it.” He touched her flushed cheek with the back of his fingers and chuckled when she shoved him away. “I got exactly what I wanted.” He gave the debate trophy a spiteful waggle and headed for the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for polo.”

  Only he could make her this angry. Everyone was gaping at her and Belle didn’t even notice. She grabbed a vase from a nearby table and pegged it as his retreating head. “I hate you!” She raged, not caring if she was arrested for attempted regicide.

  He ducked to the side so the porcelain projectile sailed passed his skull and shattered against the wall. “I technically owned that vase. I’d charge you for it if you had any money to…”

  She cut him off. “I will see you rotting in a hole somewhere if it’s the last thing I ever do! I swear to God, I am going to beat you so badly you’ll never be able to come back from it!”

  His mouth curved with all the cold authority of winter. “Impossible. No matter what you do… I’ll always come back.”

  Belle’s eyes snapped open, her heart pounding in her chest. She sat up on the mattress, her eyes quickly scanning for danger. For the moment, she was safe. Her bedroom was quiet and empty… A bedroom she only owned because Avenant had bought it back for her at that horrible auction. She’d successfully overthrown the Northlands and taken Avenant’s crown, but she’d never been able to sleep in the castle. She didn’t even want to. In some fundamental way, that would always be his.