by Riley Walker
“Same as you, I suppose. Did you forget to eat again?” I ask, knowing the real reason he’s prowling in here so late. He has a fork in hand, heading straight for my chocolate cake.
“You know your mother will not let me eat cake and I have been eyeing this piece of art all night.”
I can’t help but giggle at that. Mother refuses to allow dad to have sugar. She is constantly badgering him about his food and exercise habits.
“Dad, why is Mother so harsh with us? Sometimes, I swear I cannot do anything to please her!”
“Frannie, you know how your Mother was raised. Her mother was very strict and showed no emotions towards her. That is all she knows. Never doubt that your Mother loves you. When she looks at you, I think she sees what could have been.”
“What do you mean, what could have been?”
“She was never free to make her own choices Frannie. From her clothes, schooling, even her marriage to me was all pre-planned for her. You have some freedoms she never experienced. I may not be a fan of your friend Bianca, but at least you have her. Did you know your Mother was not even allowed to have any close friends? Think of how lonely her life must have been growing up. Give her a little slack. She really does love you.”
“I understand what you are saying. I’ll try harder to be more understanding of her.”
“Thank you. So, how was the party? I saw you with Winston. Did you two hit it off?”
Despite our close relationship, I practically choke on my cake. Mulling over what to say while I eat some more deliciousness, I eventually spill about the Dark Fey’s attitude at the party.
“No, Dad, we did not. Prince Playboy ignored me and flirted with some tramp all night. He is such an asshat,” I finish, rolling my eyes.
“Frannie! No daughter of mine will use such foul language! Besides, I am sure he is not that bad. You have to remember, there is a lot that young man will be responsible for. He is about to unite and lead two Kingdoms who have previously been at odds with each other. Winston is not much older than you. He is simply sowing some wild oats before settling down.”
It is all I can do to not stomp my foot like a petulant two-year-old. I choose to, maturely in my opinion, pout after crossing my arms over my chest, “I am not marrying Winston! It isn’t fair. He gets to go off, ‘sowing his wild oats’ all over the Kingdoms, while I have to play the Perfect Princess. When do I get to let my hair down? When can I sow my own oats?”
I take a deep breath to reign in my temper. My father may be a teddy bear, but you do not want to upset him. And you definitely don’t disrespect him by throwing a hissy fit in direct defiance of one of his decrees. Daughter or not.
He casually leans one hip against the counter, allowing me to get myself under control, and shakes his head. “Franchesca, your time will come after you and Winston marry. You have obligations and must remember the duty you have as future Queen. Not only do the Light Fey need you, but the Dark Fey also. Give the prince the space he needs. Your marriage to Winston will unite the two kingdoms, so we may work together and finally defeat the Renegades that has been threatening us with war. I will not hear another word about this.”
2
Playboy Prince
Over the next two years I am forced to confront my father’s parting guidance after my coming out party. Constantly. I find myself at numerous engagements Winston attends. Parties, gatherings, and meetings between the two kingdoms that ensure I know exactly where I stand in his regard. He is continuously, completely dismissive of me. It never gets any easier to see him, especially as he leaves each event with a different woman. I have yet to see him with the same one twice. Still, each year, he only seems to grow bigger and more handsome to me.
Stupid. Playboy. Asshat!
And now that my eighteenth birthday is here, Winston and I are to be officially presented as the future King and Queen before both Kingdoms.
Tonight, I find myself criticizing my looks in the same gold leaf trifold mirror. Not much has changed over the past few years. I am still curvy with a few added cups to my chest. I still carry a bit of baby fat, though only in my cheeks nowadays. My hair is still a frizzy mess. Of course the color of my eyes has not changed but there is now a hardness to them. Two years of being ignored by the man I am to marry has left me a little jaded and a lot less trusting.
My stomach is in knots. Not only will I be seeing Winston, but Edrik will once again escort me to meet him. My feelings for the Knight have not diminished over the years. If anything they have gotten stronger. No longer a simple crush, but so much more. My life would be easier if only I could marry him.
“Franchesca, are you ready yet?”
Gretchen is at my door, again. I do not know why she persists in asking when she knows I am never on time.
There is so much that reminds me of that night two years ago except this time, Gretchen enters my room without my permission. Over the years she has listened to me complain about Mother and her condescending attitude, my lack of friends, and more recently, the Dark Fey Prince’s cavalier behavior towards me. She knows my deepest secrets: my love for Edrik and a yearning to experience a normal life. She takes one look at me and I see the tears threatening to spill over.
Tonight I am gorgeously decked out in a sleeveless, sky-blue dress with a plunging neckline to show off my newer assets. It’s form-fitting in the bodice, but the full tulle skirt swishes when I walk. Tiny crystals are embedded in the tulle that match my tiara and also the crystals on my baby blue flats. What? I still refuse to wear heels.
Speaking of tiaras, Gretchen lifts mine out of its box that has been passed down from generation to generation. With a kind smile and gentle hands, she places the tiara on my head. Then she takes my hands, squeezing tightly and giving me the reassurance I know I will need to get through the night.
“My darling Franchesca, you have grown into such a beautiful young woman. I could not be more proud if you were my own daughter. Tonight, your entire life is about to change.”
As usual, my Knight meets me at the door. I grip Edrik’s arm as he walks me from my room and down the winding, center staircase to the ballroom where I will once again come face-to-face with my future husband. I immediately look for the champagne fountain, knowing I am going to need all the liquid courage I can get to make it through the night.
I am making my rounds, speaking to the different dignitaries that have come to pay their respects, when I spot Winston. Standing by the fireplace, glass in hand, he is also apparently partaking in the liquid courage tonight. My libido wakes up and I lose all my sensibilities. Dressed in a morning-grey pinstripe waistcoat and matching trousers, his ascot is a vibrant blue, the color of the Dark Fey Kingdom. His champagne hair is gelled to perfection and his mischievous, deep blue eyes are looking straight at me. I am struck speechless by the sight.
“Are you feeling alright, Princess? You look a little flushed,” Edrik asks.
“No, Edrik. It is just my nerves getting the better of me,” I lie. I wait for Winston to approach me, because everyone knows a lady never approaches a man first, but he just gives me a cursory nod and tight smile. Lord Henry steps into view, suddenly cutting Winston from sight, and asks for a dance. A proper Princess never turns down a dance invitation from a gentleman. As the night wears on, Winston never once asks for a dance. I am beginning to think he hates me.
After several hours and several dances including a few with King Richard, Winston’s father, I find myself on the ballroom terrace. Outside, the moon is bright, affording a beautiful view of our rose garden. I was in desperate need of some air. Mother had just given me “the look,” and I know the formal announcement about our marriage is about to be made. But as I get ready to head back inside, a movement suddenly catches my attention. Curiosity gets the better of me and I walk further out, towards the garden.
The sound of moaning hits me first. Stopping short on the walkway, I’m confused and slightly dumbfounded by what I’ve stumbled upon. Or maybe appa
lled and horrified are better descriptors of what I find transpiring. My best friend and future husband are sucking face on one of my Mother’s concrete benches in the middle of the rose garden. Bianca is straddling Winston, her skirt hiked up her thighs, while Winston fills his hands with her ass. She is lost in passion, but Winston opens his eyes looking directly at me and smiles unapologetically.
Bianca notices Winston’s distraction and looks over her shoulder. At least she has the decency to appear slightly ashamed when she asks, “Franchesca, where did you come from?”
Furiously I respond, “You would have noticed if your tongue wasn’t shoved down my fiance’s throat. I cannot believe this, Bianca! I expect such from him, but not you.”
“He is not yours yet. As far as I’m concerned, he is free until your wedding night.”
“Just because we are not married yet doesn't mean that you should be out here sitting on his lap. He is still my betrothed and you are a backstabbing jerk, Bianca.”
Of course, Bianca doesn’t bother to get off his lap. Why would she? Winston’s hands are still up her skirt and after that statement, he gives me a wink as he pulls a very willing Bianca back in for another sloppy kiss.
I storm back to the castle with the sole intention of escaping this farce of a night. Taking the servants tunnels, I make it back to my bedroom without being seen. Mother will be furious with me, but right now I don’t give a damn.
I slam my door and throw myself on my bed. That backstabbing, conniving... slutbag! I cannot believe she would do this to me! And Winston! What a creep. There is no way I am marrying that man. My heart is breaking and my grief is immeasurable. I feel complete and utter despair. Not over Winston, I could care less about that Asshat. My grief is for the lost friendship. I have never felt such betrayal.
Gretchen walks in and sees me blubbering into my pillow. She immediately pulls me into her arms while I tell her everything about the awful scene I witnessed. She strokes my back and promises to make things better. She then helps me undress and put on my comforting tiger pajamas tucking me into bed.
“Sleep well, my child. Tomorrow brings a whole new day. I will go inform the Queen that you took ill and that is why you left the party early.”
She kisses my cheek and gently shuts the door behind her as she leaves my room.
The next morning I wake with puffy eyes, a pounding headache, and Gretchen standing over me with a large envelope. She covers my mouth with her hand while saying, “Hurry up! Get dressed before anyone else wakes up. Edrik is still on patrol so we have to be fast.”
Despite my confusion, there is one thing I know for sure: I trust Gretchen with my life. So I immediately put on the first set of clean clothes I can find but barely have the time to throw on my white flats before she’s racing me through the same servant tunnels I used last night. Except the path she takes me on runs under the gardens and into the woods.
“Franchesca, take this envelope. Anything you could possibly need is in here. This portal will take you to my brother, Gerald. You are now Franchesca Jones; Gerald will be your cousin. He will help you make a fresh start.”
I am completely caught off guard by what Gretchen is saying to me. Baffled, I start rambling.
“I don’t understand, Gretchen. Is something wrong? Has the castle been invaded? What’s going on?”
She pushes me towards the portal and says, “No, child, nothing is wrong. I am helping you get away. It isn’t right that you have no say in who you marry. Gerald can hide you in a different Realm where you can have a real life. Go be you. Have fun, live a little. You can come home whenever you want, but you could also stay there if it makes you happy.”
She smiles at me, “I love you and I will miss you.”
Then shoves me through the portal.
To where, I don’t know.
3
Hotty Toddy
My first experience traveling through a portal isn’t something I will soon forget. It feels like my stomach leaves my body and then roughly gets shoved back in. Repeatedly. I tumble out, ass-over-end, and land in a heap on the ground. Once I have my bearings, and can open my eyes without throwing up, I look around and find a male version of Gretchen staring at me. He is so adorable with his salt and pepper hair, gentle caring brown eyes, and soft midsection. All wrapped up in brown slacks, a white button down shirt, and navy bow tie. He reaches his hand out towards me, helping me to my feet.
“Are you alright, Princess?”
“Please, call me Franchesca. I assume you are Gretchen’s brother?”
“Yes, Franchesca, I am. My name is Gerald Jones. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am here to be of service in any way I can. In fact, my wife is at home right now getting ready for your arrival. She can’t wait to meet you. Did you bring anything with you?” he asks.
Did I bring anything? I snort. I barely had time to put on my shoes before his sister shoved me into an unknown portal. Speaking of unknown...
“No Gerald, it is just me. Can you tell me where I’ve landed?”
“Of course, my apologies. We are in the Earth Realm; Oxford, Mississippi, to be precise,” he replies with a huge grin on his face. I am beginning to think Gerald finds my traveling predicament a bit humorous.
Mississippi?
Without saying another word, he begins walking away from the portal.
Well, then. Looks like I should just follow Gerald to this new life.
Gerald drives us to a nondescript brown brick, three story building.
“My wife, Mary, and I live in a two bedroom apartment on the third floor. I teach American History at the local university and it would be our honor for you to stay with us until classes start in a few days. Mary can also take you shopping tomorrow for anything you may need.”
I follow him in, beginning our trek up the stairs. I don't ask why we did not use the elevator, but I hope it’s because he likes the exercise. Personally, I can’t handle this kind of torture, and I am relieved there should only be a few days of it. He has offered to help me enroll and get situated in the dorms. As for shopping, first things first: I need clothes and toiletries.
We enter the apartment, and my mouth instantly starts watering at the scent of... is that garlic?
“Welcome, Franchesca!”
I am greeted by an overly enthusiastic woman I can only assume is Mary. She is just as adorable as her husband! Shorter than me and a little more round, she is exactly what I always pictured a mom would look like. Given this morning’s events, all I want to do is crawl into her lap and let her hold and sing me to sleep. With everything transpiring so quickly, I hadn’t had a chance to fully process what has happened to me. Seeing this woman suddenly makes everything come to the surface and I start to tear up.
She engulfs me in the tightest hug I have ever received and begins to whisper in my ear that everything will be ok. For some reason I trust her, and I feel a sense of peace wash over me.
I will miss I my parents, even Mother. Gretchen and... oh, my Knight. He will know by now that I am missing. Is he worried about me? My life is starting over, but he will always hold a piece of my heart. And what about Winston? Bah! I bet the asshat will be glad not to have to marry me. Jerk.
Mary takes me by the hand, leading me to the guest room I will be using for the next few days. It’s small, but beautiful. Painted in a rich buttercream, it has a full-sized bed in the center, which is flanked by a nightstand and dresser. The bed is covered with a fluffy, white comforter that looks like a cloud you can just sink into. I am suddenly very tired and just looking at that cloud makes me yawn.
“Oh dear, you must be exhausted from traveling through the portal. Why don’t you get comfortable, take a nap, and I’ll come back and get you when dinner is ready?”
I thank her and turn to do just as she says. I kick off my flats and fall into the bed.
I am asleep before my head hits the pillow.
“Franchesca. Franchesca, dear.”
I hear my name being called,
but I just can’t seem to make my eyes open.
A sharp, “Franchesca!”
And suddenly I am wide awake. It takes me a few moments to realize where I am and recognize it’s Mary standing over me. I stretch my arms above my head but wish I could close my eyes again and forget this day ever happened.
“Dear, dinner is ready whenever you are”, Mary informs me.
Food! If the noise coming from my stomach is any indication, I am starving. I jump up from the bed and follow Mary out of the room and down the hall. We make our way into their combination kitchen/dining room where Gerald is already at the table with a massive platter of spaghetti and bowl of salad in the middle. I can’t even remember the last time I had spaghetti. Mother would say it is too common of a dish, not up to royal standards.
I can’t wait to gorge myself on it.
After an incredible dinner, Mary offers to take me shopping in the morning and I am reminded I don't have anything with me except for the envelope Gretchen gave me. How did I forget about the envelope? I rush back to the bedroom to grab it and find out what she sent with me.
Inside I find an identification card with the name “Franchesca Jones,” several hundred dollars, the name of a bank with an address here in Oxford, and a letter to Gerald along with the records of my homeschooling. I take the letter and paperwork to him, and ask Mary if she will take me to the bank in the morning before we go shopping. Agreeing, we make our plans for the day and I head back to my bed.
Once again, I’m asleep as soon as I close my eyes.
Of course, since I wasn't able to pack anything, I have to wear the same clothes today. But I guess it could be worse. I mean, at least I have the hoodie Mary loaned me to cover up the rather large spaghetti stain on my tank top.
Mary and I start our day by driving to First Trust, the bank Gretchen wrote down for me. It seems Gretchen had a feeling this day would come and prepared well for it. After showing the teller my ID, a weasel of a man comes over to speak with me.
