by Sky Sommers
I asked Grizelda how Belle would know.
She said she wouldn’t be surprised if that thing had already remotely alerted the palace that someone carrying royal offspring was visiting a witch, possibly with the aim of getting rid of the baby.
I pleaded with her not to give away my name. If Belle told Grizelda she’d put her to death, what would she do to me?!?
Grizelda promised she would tell Belle she wasn’t home when the pregnant lady had come knocking - if the contraption had, indeed, alerted the palace somehow. If she wasn’t home, she couldn’t have seen who came by.
Maybe I can leave the kingdom? People leave all the time. The DeVilles did. Maybe I can go somewhere else and find another witch and...no.
I decided then and there that if I had to leave the kingdom and wouldn’t see Nick happily married to some foreign princess, then I could and would have Nick’s child. It is the only thing I have left of him. If we can’t be together, if I have to go away, then at least I will be able to see bits of him in our baby.
Now, all I have to do is pack and find a merchant’s cart headed for a neighbouring kingdom. Oh, gods, how will I manage living on my own? How will I support myself and the baby? Who would take me in? Where will I live?
Tomorrow. I will think about all of that tomorrow.
First things first - pack, cart, escape.
Chapter 22. The Problem
Grace
She got what she wanted at the ball alright. Or should I say whom. And then some.
Ten days after the ball, at 11PM we are, once again, having an emergency family meeting. On the move. In our landau. With a storm brewing above.
My husband is away on yet another business trip, so I had to abandon Henry with Greta when I went Ito get Ella.
Lightning jags up the sky.
Carting her back from the edge of the woods, I look at her and have a taste to punch her, chain her up and starve her just a little bit when we get home.
No, no, wrong thoughts.
I blink, exhale and feel less…bloodthirsty.
If it hadn’t been for Grizelda overhearing them, I would never have known Ella was purchasing passage with that merchant to leave for parts unknown.
‘You didn’t learn anything in Ailmsworth, did you? All my efforts to whitewash your reputation were for nought? Who were you running off to meet and where?’ I ask, arms crossed. ‘Meeting up with another lover in Ailmsworth?’
Ella sniffs and rubs her already red eyes.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to do…’
‘What do you mean? Are you running from something?’
Ella stays still.
‘Someone?’
She glances up at me and away again.
‘Just tell me what it is girl, so I can sort it out. Once again.’
‘I don’t think you can sort out this one.’
Has she killed someone? Running from the law? Shamed in public? What?
‘I’m with child.’
‘Is it John DeVille’s?’
Ella cringes.
‘Thank goodness.’
‘It’s Nick’s,’ she mumbles.
‘Nick’s? As in Prince Nicholas is the father? How could this have happened?’ I ask.
Where is quite obvious. At the ball.
‘What, you skipped that class?’ Ella scoffs. ‘Girl meets boy. Things…happen. Days later, girl should have had her flow. Girl misses her flow. Voila!’ she bites off in between sniffles.
I give her the eye. ‘No, how could you have been so stupid and tried to seduce the prince…’ I started.
‘I didn’t seduce him.. He seduced me.’
‘No wonder, considering how you looked….’ I mumble.
‘The whole point of being dressed in the latest fashion was, indeed, perhaps to land a husband,’ Ella admits and bites her lip.
‘Whoever said your attire was the height of fashion mislead you on purpose. It wasn’t any of the girls at school who have been bullying you, was it?’
Ella looks startled, her mouth forming an ‘O’.
‘I see. Of course, the prince would take interest. You looked…approachable.’
‘I was very much surprised that it was the prince who took interest and started flirting with me. I just thought we would dance and maybe things would develop afterwards…’ Ella sniffles.
‘They just developed a little too fast and too far?’ I ask and she nods.
‘Well, I didn’t know that he was inviting me to his bedroom when he asked if I wanted to see his sword collection, did I?’ Ella says.
I roll my eyes. Sword collection. My word.
‘But when you did realise, why did you stay?’
‘I didn’t mean to. Somehow, things…happened. I mean, we talked a bit and I wanted to go back to the ball, but he gave me a sip of wine and then one of his pages brought us a slice of your famous chocolate cake and suddenly…I was woozy and sat down on the bed and he was all over me and he was so irresistible…and…and…things happened…but I wasn’t entirely certain, because we both kind of passed out…and when I woke up, I didn’t want to be kicked out, so I just fled…’ tears forge a river down her face.
I feel for you, baby.
But still…
‘Even so, how did THIS happen?’ my question is directed at her abdomen. ‘Didn’t your…’ MOTHER ‘…GODmother ever teach you how to be safe?’
‘I fell asleep! Instead of cleaning myself out, I fell asleep! And I tried to go to the witch to get the herbs, but she said she can’t help me this time as her thingamabob trap she has at her door already told her the baby is royal and she is under strict orders from Belle not to help any girl get rid of any royal baby on the pain of death!’ Ella sniffles.
Witch? Herbs? Get rid of?
This time?!?
Ella chews her lip and avoids eye contact.
Oh.
Simon.
Or John.
Or whatever other boy she passed off as a tutor in our house.
‘You did sleep with a boy…’
Let’s be charitable here.
’One boy…sometime before the ball…’ I say, ‘Which boy?’
‘Does it matter?’
Not to me.
‘…And you know about witches and herbs because…’
She looks straight at me, ‘I…got rid of a baby. Godmother was cool about it.’ Ella says and pushes her chin outward, thinning her lips.
I close my eyes.
Breathe, Grace, breathe.
In and out.
In and out.
Outside, our window is accosted by the branches of a tree and another bolt of white pierces the sky. The thunderous inferno outside is not letting up.
I’ve long since accepted that some people have the luck of cats getting pregnant and it’s not their fault that it took me a long while.
Abortion.
At seventeen.
With the goddamn GODmother supporting her through it.
!%^@?!?!#^&*!!**!
A clap of thunder silences my inner swearing.
When I open my eyes, Ella looks defeated.
I think about all my unborn babies, close my eyes and grab for her.
She sinks into me and her shoulders shudder.
‘Which witch? Did Mellie drag you to another village?’
‘Gr..zelda,’ Ella hiccoughs into my shoulder.
Her own…neveryoumind… Now it makes sense how come Grizelda knew to tell on Ella. She knew Ella was pregnant and might do something rash. Like run. So she followed her. And told me.
Ella extracts herself and repeats, ‘You can’t help me. hate how things came about! If Nick ever finds out… I’m just a stranger to him. Just some girl with whom he had a one-night t
ryst. Imagine if he finds out! He will think I did it on purpose! He’ll hate me! That’s why I decided to go and live by myself. So I wouldn’t bring anyone shame and nobody would whisper behind my back about my child being a bastard. I’ve had it done to my face most of my life, I wouldn’t want that for him, too. Or her.’ She cradles her stomach.
She’s growing attached to it. In my world, the most logical thing besides getting rid of babies was to keep them. Ok, so Ella won’t marry well, but she and the kid can still live. With us. We can relocate where nobody knows us.
Out loud I say, ‘There’s no shame in having a baby, Ella.’
‘If I could redo things, I swear…’
‘Don’t swear…’ I say as we pull up outside our house.
‘If I could, I would…’
‘Undo things?’
’Some things.’ Ella says to her stomach and sniffles. ‘I don’t want to see the disappointment in his face. Or hate. If he should think I trapped him on purpose. I don’t want him to ask me to leave. Or worse, hear him tell me to get rid of it like John did. I dont’t want…’
I rub my temples.
It’s past midnight and this is severe pumpkins.
What if…
The Agency of Guardian Angels did offer to delete my memories thirteen years ago.
Or if it’s not the memories…maybe the Agency can…undo other things.
The irony of undoing the existence of a baby after I’d prayed so long to get Henry makes me sad as I leave Ella to tend to our horse and head to the roof and into the heart of the storm.
Chapter 23. The Check
Grace
Leaning into my parapet, I yell ‘Gabriel!’ at the top of my lungs above the storm as the wind rips into me.
I’m not in danger or dying, but if this isn’t a situation to call out for either a fairy godmother or a guardian angel, then I don’t know what is.
‘Grace,’ says someone from behind me and the raindrops around us freeze.
I turn to see him looking as lovely as ever. Even in a simple white T-shirt and jeans, with the sword hilt peeking from behind his ear, he looks regal.
He hasn’t aged a day for the past three years. Or for the past thirteen or 860 years, as it happens.
While I have.
I motion at my face and smile, ‘Still recognise me? After all these years?’
He nods, his smile warm and sad.
‘Still wish you had given up being immortal?’ I ask.
For me, is what I don’t say.
Out loud anyway.
Gabriel remains impassive.
A flash of lightning fills our silence, illuminating his iridescent wings.
‘How’s your Boss?’ I ask, remembering the kind-looking elderly Indian gentleman in kingly robes who saved me from certain death on one occasion. I don’t feel indebted to him, not really, because later he chose to put me in the path of danger so he could get Gabriel to agree to a promotion.
‘Gone. I had no choice. I had to replace him.’
‘So you say,’ I shrug, getting flashbacks of Gabriel walking me home.
I was a little bit infatuated with the man…the angel…thirteen years ago.
‘He threatened to harvest you as a guardian if I didn’t,’ Gabriel says.
My ears start ringing.
‘He did WHAT?’
Silence.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I ask.
‘It was never about you. It was always about his plan for me to take over the Agency,’ Gabriel shrugs again, folding his iridescent wings.
‘Don’t you think I deserve to know if someone is using me as a pawn in a higher stakes game? Maybe if you’d told me, I would have had a say in how my life turned out!’
Maybe I…
‘You don’t like your life?’ Gabriel raises an eyebrow.
‘I like it just fine, thank you! Peter and I are happy. I just wish we could have been happy on Earth.’ I say.
Gabriel shrugs, ‘You made a choice. You could have chosen to be a guardian,’ he says and hastens to add, ‘You made a choice to raise your child yourself. You know why we had to relocate you to the Magic Kingdom. Time flows differently here.’
So we can cheat death just a little.
I nod, ‘Now Henry has both his parents.’ Had Gabriel not suggested postponing death by placing us all in the Magic Kingdom, I wouldn’t be seeing my baby boy every day. The suggestion had come at a great personal cost to Gabe. He hadn’t said anything then and doesn’t say anything now, but I remembered the joy with which he greeted me in his office just after our car had been lifted from the River Thames. Joy at seeing me again. Joy at us speaking again. Joy…Until he noticed I was holding Peter’s hand with no intention of letting him go.
‘What’s the trouble now?’ Gabriel asks, his voice deep and soft and without any hint of emotion. ‘You’re happy with your life. Why did you howl my name at the full moon in a storm?’ he asks looking every bit of a Greek statue, perfect, cold an all.
‘Is there any way to reverse a non-magical pregnancy?’ I ask him out right.
‘Yours?’ he asks. ‘I’m not sure Peter would be happy…’ he starts as I shake my head ‘no’.
‘Ella’s. A bit of a misguided not-entirely-voluntary-but-kind-of-voluntary-seduction situation gone wrong, don’t ask,’ I sigh.
‘How can… Why didn’t she cry for help…’ he starts and rolls his eyes.
‘She started it. By enticing him. He went too far and she didn’t know how to say no to a boy she fancied.’ I say, remembering all of Ella’s charcoal drawings.
‘Nevermind. The answer to your question is no, once conception has happened, we don’t interfere because...’
‘There are choices after conception,’ I finish for him.
True. Good to know some things work the same across dimensions.
‘I had to check,’ I say.
‘Would deleting the memory of that one night be an option?’ I ask.
‘Ella’s?’
‘The boy’s.’
Gabe shakes his head. ‘The person has to consent, he has to ask for it. Otherwise, no.’
‘Understood. Sorry for disturbing you.’
He turns to go. ‘It was a pleasure to see you, Grace. Until we meet again,’ he bows and I notice a glimmer of hope in his baby blues. ‘Until then, be creative.’
Oh, I will, I definitely will.
* * *
Ella is sitting ramrod straight when I go downstairs. She has changed out of her wet garments, while I’m dripping all over the floor. I shiver and sidle up to the stove, which is still somewhat warm.
‘There is no undoing things. For you,’ I motion at her stomach, ‘or for Nick.’
Her shoulders sag.
‘You said a lot of things you don’t want to happen. What about what you do want? What about the most obvious option?’ I ask.
‘Meaning?’
‘You don’t want Nicholas to hate you. What if we had the support of his parents…and he didn’t know there was a baby on the way…’
A shotgun arrangement. Babies are born early all the time…
‘Perhaps it’s time that we tried the king, don’t you think?’ I ask. ‘And for us to do that, I’ll need to know exactly what happened. EXACTLY. Down to the words the prince used to lure you in.’
Ella starts squirming.
‘I do realise telling me might be painful to relive,’ I say. ‘But it’s not idle curiosity. I really need to know everything so I can persuade the king to do the right thing,’ I say.
‘The right thing?’ she whispers.
‘Marriage, of course,’ I say, trying hard not to roll my eyes.
‘Marriage…’ Ella looks puzzled. ‘Why are you helping me, you don’t even like me!?!’
/>
In an argument, agree with the least possible thing you can.
‘I don’t like the way you act sometimes, which reminds me of your Godmother, who is the most selfish person I know and I’d give a lot to find out what has made her that way.’
‘But you’ll help me… What’s in it for you?’
A happily ever after.
My own.
Everything I’ve done has always been for your benefit.
All I’ve ever tried to do was help you, girl.
Why does it always take the longest to persuade the victim to do the right thing?
Time for vanity appeal.
‘Don’t you want to be Queen?’ I ask.
‘Queen?’ she gapes.
‘Queen,’ I nod.
What else did she think ‘doing the right thing’ in this situation meant?
‘You really think this can work?’ Ella leans over, with hope twinkling in her eyes.
Finally! Now that a crown is on the table, she is willing to listen.
I nod. ‘Tell me everything,’ I say and she does. About the dancing and the swords and the wine and chocolate cake, their night of passion and her slipping away in the morning with a gash on her thigh, leaving bloodied sheets behind.
‘Right, this gives me more than enough ammunition to persuade the king to do the right thing,’ I say and yawn.
‘You’re going to tell the king ALL of it? ALL?’ Ella gapes. ‘You said you’d help!’ she wails. ‘Why do you have to tell him everything? I don’t want him to know my intimate business!’
‘It’s a bit too late for that, honey. How else do you think I am going to persuade the king to approve of your and Nick’s union? This is me. Helping,’ I retort, standing up. ‘Now, I suggest you go wash your face and have a nice long lavender bath. It’ll relax you and you’ll be able to sleep. Trust me,’ I say and glance at the clock. ‘I’m going to bed.’
