Kingdom of Fairytales: After ever after - a Kingdom of Fairytales Prequel

by J. A. Armitage

  “Oh look! If it isn’t our favorite lovebirds!” The Genie said, as he jokingly bowed.

  “Genie?” King Aladdin warned, “Behavior!”

  The Genie quickly reverted to his position. He was much more dashing and younger in human form than as a true Genie of the Lamp.

  “The people are waiting.” A helper announced.

  “Open the gate,” The queen said as she pulled away from her husband, taking her station at the head of the line to greet the visitors.

  The gate was an ornately decorated heavy steel door. When the workers tugged at it, the hinges slightly screeched, alerting the people to be ready.

  “Good morning!” The queen said, cheerfully greeting each of her citizens with a huge smile. And one by one, each person returned the greeting, matching the smile they received.

  Off to the side, King Aladdin played with the small children who were not of school age as the queen chanced a glance at every opportunity. It warmed her heart to see her husband so easily entertained just as he always was when they visited the orphanage. Albeit, every day, there were less and less children at the orphanage. She and her husband with the help of their dear friend, Genie, had made strides in helping their citizens improve their lives; therefore, keeping families together.

  Their kingdom wasn’t absent tragedy. The difference was that when tragedy struck, parents were better positioned to help provide for their families. Rather than give up their children for fear of the little ones starving, they were able to deal with the unexpected.

  “He’s going to be a great father someday,” Genie whispered into Queen Jawahir’s ear.

  She knew it was true. When the time came, their children would be the most loved in the land.

  The Sultan had been a great father, but he could also be cruel, and she knew that wasn’t always the influence of the Royal Vizier. Her father was more of a traditional classist—something she despised, along with growing up the daughter of a ruler. His grip on her had become stronger when the sorcerer entered the picture. Confining her to the palace wasn’t exactly a life of luxurious grandeur. For even within her home, she was limited in the places she could visit.

  She was caught up in her thoughts when an arm reached around her tiny waist, startling her.

  “Calm down.” King Aladdin giggled. “It’s just me.”

  “I see that,” she said, turning back, welcoming his embrace. “I was taking a stroll down memory lane, thinking about my father.”

  The king kissed his wife on the head as he pulled her in tighter, “I know his passing has been difficult. But I know how proud he was of you, my dear Jawahir.”

  Listening to her name come from his lips still made her entire body tingle with happiness, and butterflies swarm in her tummy like a school girl with her first crush.

  “So, is this it for the day?” she asked the volunteers that helped. One of the men walked out into the street to double check; then he and another closed the gate.

  Immediately, they all got to work, picking up, and putting away all the tables and bins. The queen and another helper packed basket’s that would be taken to the elderly, along with leavened bread from the palace kitchens.

  She and a few of the helpers sat on the luscious green lawn and discussed the next day's work. The Queen wanted to do something special before week’s end in celebration of the restoration to the town’s center, a project her father had personally overseen prior to his death.

  He’d ordered the rarest of marble from the quarries of The Forge, which was made into an exquisite water feature at the center of the square. Wooden benches made from the trees of the northern forest of the Elder adorned the outside perimeter..

  Fish from Atlantis were imported to fill the pond while exotic flowers from Floris decorated all the beds.

  There was something unique from every kingdom just as the Sultan had envisioned.

  The queen smiled to herself, recognizing her fathers’ efforts to be a better ruler before his death.

  “Your Majesty, I believe we are done. The event shall be grand, and the people will indeed love it,” said a woman sitting to her left.

  Genie and the king were waiting for the queen to finish up when a loud knock came at the gate…

  Find out what happens next in Queen of the Sun

  8

  Cinderella

  Ella was mopping the floor when the horn rang out in the distance. Not just any horn but the royal horn. She knew it was the royal horn because she had heard the sound at the ball.

  But why would the royal horn sound in her village? She had heard rumors that the prince was traveling across the country, eager to find the mystery girl from the ball, but she had thought they were just that, rumors and nothing more. Now, however, she had to wonder if there was something to the hearsay.

  She dropped her broom and ran up the stairs, past the second story where her stepsisters and mother were enjoying the croissants she had baked at dawn, and up to the attic. Her tiny space provided the best view of the village. Despite being out of breath by the time she reached her window, a gasp escaped her as she saw twenty members of the cavalry, the prince in their midst.

  The prince had kept his promise. He was searching for her everywhere just as he had told her he would. Perhaps they would have more than one night after all. Hope rose in her chest, and she pulled back her threadbare pillow to reveal the glass slipper she had hidden underneath. It was just as pristine as it had been the first time she had seen it. It was her only memory of that wonderful night. The only present that had stayed with her from her godmother’s precious gifts.

  “What do you have here, Ella?”

  She froze and tried to hide the slipper behind her back as she turned, but her stepmother was faster. She snatched the slipper out of her hand.

  “Why what an interesting discovery.” She tsked. “It’s not nice to steal, Ella.”

  Ella shook her head. “I didn’t. It’s mine.”

  Her stepmother smirked. “I’ll give this back to the rightful owner. You stay up here and think about what you’ve done.” She pivoted, heading for the door.

  “You can’t do this.” Ella ran after her stepmother.

  The matriarch whipped around. “That’s where you’re mistaken, child. I can and I will.”

  “But it’s mine. The prince is searching for it.”

  Another smirk. “I’ll make sure he gets it.” With strength Ella hadn’t known her stepmother possessed, the woman shoved her back so hard that Ella stumbled. A second later, the door was slammed shut in her face, and the lock turned.

  “Let me out!” Ella called to no avail. Her whole life she had been subservient, but seeing the prince in the village searching for her had unleashed something wild and dangerous within her. She would no longer be meek. She screamed and pounded against the door until her knuckles were bloody and bruised and her voice disappeared. A trumpet cut through her distress, and only then, did she realize her mistake.

  With her voice gone, there was no chance her prince would hear her when he entered their house. From the window, she saw that he and his men were only minutes away. Minutes away from her stepmother lying, pretending the slipper belonged to one of her daughters.

  Ella collapsed to the floor and hid her face in her palms, silent sobs racking through her. What had she done? How could she have been so careless? First, she hadn’t taken any precautions when taking out the glass slipper; then, she had lost her voice. Now, one of her stepsisters would become the queen and throw Ella into the dungeon so that she could never reveal the truth.

  The trumpet sounded, and voices carried from downstairs.

  “Your majesty, what an honor,” her wicked stepmother was saying, her voice saturated with false surprise.

  “I’m up here,” Ella croaked, her voice no more than a whisper.

  “I’ve come to find the mystery girl who danced with me at the ball. She wore this glass slipper.” The soothing voice melted Ella’s heart. At least, she got
to hear it one more time. “Do you have any daughters that attended the ball?”

  “Why yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

  Ella pushed off the ground. She could either stay down and listen as the awful events unfolded downstairs, or she could fight.

  She might not have her voice or the key, but there were other ways to escape the locked room.

  Her gaze fell on the broom that stood in the corner. She took it and slammed it against the window. Once, twice, thrice until spider cracks appeared and the glass shattered.

  She waited a beat for anyone downstairs to react, but it appeared that no one had heard her. It was a small victory and brought her one step closer to the prince. Still, she couldn’t take too much time. She needed to hurry before he left by himself or took her sisters to question them further at the castle about how the glass slipper had fallen into their hands. Ella wasn’t afraid the prince would mistake either of them for her, but she was certain that by the time he realized they had stolen the slipper from her, she would be long gone. Her stepmother would see to that.

  Ella glanced out of the window at the long drop. She wasn’t sure her idea would work, but what other option did she have? Falling to her death didn’t seem quite as daunting when the alternative was slowly rotting away.

  “Wish me luck, Fairy Godmother,” she whispered. Warmth spread over her shoulder as if someone were touching her. She turned around. There was no one there, but she sensed her godmother’s love and protection. Encouraged, Ella knotted her sheet to her blanket, which she knotted to her pillowcase, and finally, the only other dress she possessed besides the one she was wearing.

  She tied the rope around a leg of her bed and threw the rest out of the window. It was too short. It wasn’t anywhere near long enough, yet the distance that remained between the rope and the ground didn’t seem enough to break her spine, so she went for it.

  Taking a deep breath, she stepped through the broken window. Sweat ran down her hands, and her heart pounded, ready to escape her chest. Yet despite this, she made her descent, her legs pushing against the wall, her hands gripping the rope.

  She was halfway down when the rope shifted. With horror, she realized the pillowcase was coming undone from the blanket. Before she could do anything, she was already falling toward the ground. A silent scream left her throat as she crashed against the hard earth. The impact knocked the air out of her lungs. However, while her ankle felt funny and her wrist throbbed, she managed to stand up.

  The door to her house flew open, and Prince Charming came running toward her. His eyes were wide as he took her in—her dirty clothes, her unmade face, her undone braid. But despite all that, recognition flickered in his eye.

  “It’s you.” He stepped toward her and took her face between his palms. “It’s really you. My mystery girl.”

  “You came for me,” Ella croaked, her eyes filling with tears.

  “I told you I would.” His lips brushed tentatively against hers, and she returned the kiss.

  Everything had changed in the last month for Ella. She was no longer scrubbing floors and cleaning up after her sisters but ruling at Prince Charming’s side. She was no longer a maid, but a young queen. Most importantly, she was no longer alone, but the wife of the kindest man.

  As for her sisters and her stepmother, the three of them were locked up in the royal dungeon. Ella’s new advisers suggested giving the three women a life sentence, but Ella had argued with them. Eventually, the men agreed to a one-year sentence, which would be reviewed upon completion to decide how to proceed with the stepmother and the stepsisters.

  Even though the three women had been nothing but cruel to Ella, she didn’t think they should be punished for their past mistakes forever. Everyone had some goodness in them, and anyone could change. If her stepmother and stepsisters showed improvement, she would welcome them with open arms.

  Ella thought that after marrying a prince and being crowned a queen, nothing could surprise her. She was wrong. For exactly one week after she was married, a woman she didn’t know walked toward her through the gardens.

  The woman was covered in a dark cloak, her features hidden. However, the way her hands were positioned, there was no doubt she was carrying something underneath her cloak.

  Ella didn’t wait for the woman to approach. Instead, she rushed toward her. “Are you all right? Do you need food or shelter?”

  The woman shook her head. “I have something for you, Your Majesty.”

  Find out what happens next in Queen of Song

  9

  Alice in Wonderland

  “Off with her head!” The Queen of Hearts yelled, pointing at the young woman with hair the color of straw. The gathered crowd yelled and jeered, anticipating the thrill of an execution.

  Tick.

  Her card-soldiers, the Hearts, lowered their spears, ready to charge. The Queen smiled viciously, her eyes flashing. The first Heart charged, but Alice nimbly dodged it, grabbing the spear to send it tumbling to the ground.

  Tick.

  The other Hearts, spears at the ready, hesitated. The Queen put her hands on her hips. What were they waiting for? The Hearts always obeyed her commands instantly. She was about to scream her orders again when something struck her as odd.

  Silence.

  The ticking that marked the metronome of the city like a heartbeat, constant and sure, had fallen silent.

  The crowd’s jeering and hollering fell away. One by one, they noticed it too—holding their breaths as they looked, first at each other and then, at the Queen. Very slowly, everyone turned to look up at the Royal Clock that stood in the very center of the city.

  It didn’t strike the hour.

  It didn’t mark the minute or even the next second.

  It had stopped.

  The Queen didn’t understand it. The clock had never faltered before. It had never run even one second slow.

  A frisson of fear ran down her spine. She flexed her fingers but the magic that pulsed through her, like the ticking of the clock, had gone still. A titter ran through the crowd. The Queen pursed her lips. It would not do to show weakness.

  She turned back to the young woman who dared to defy her.

  “Off with her head!” she screamed as she bunched her hands into fists.

  Alice raised her chin and put her hands on her hips.

  The Hearts did not move at the Queen’s command. They had gone still, just like the clock.

  Fury rose up inside of the Queen as she took in Alice’s defiance. She gritted her teeth, eyes flashing. Without her magic, she could not maintain her power over the Forge, over her people, but she was not finished. This upstart young woman would not best her.

  Not today.

  The Queen used the last lingering traces of her magic. She clenched her fists, held her breath until she was red in the face, and stomped her foot as hard as she could manage.

  Afterwards, nobody could be sure whether it was Alice who grew in size or the Queen who shrunk, but everyone in the crowd was thrown to the ground as a flash of light blinded them all.

  When they recovered their senses, they struggled to their feet, blinking and looking around blankly.

  The Queen was nowhere to be seen. Nor were any of her Hearts. The Royal Clock remained silent and still.

  It was as though the whole city was holding its breath.

  Waiting…

  “The Queen is dead!” A solitary voice finally broke the silence. “Long live the Queen!”

  All eyes turned to Alice. There was another beat of silence before the crowd erupted into cheers. People rushed at Alice, who stepped backwards, holding up her hands and shaking her head.

  “I’m not—”

  The crowd paid her protestations no attention as they surged around her. She was hoisted onto someone’s shoulders and paraded around the market square.

  Nearby, someone started playing a merry tune on a fiddle. Within moments, a trumpet joined in. Another cheer went up, and people paire
d off to start an impromptu dance.

  Still protesting, Alice was set down on the ground and pulled into a lively jig.

  Sometime later, swept up by the jubilation of the crowd, Alice allowed herself to be swung into the hands of yet another new partner. This time, when she looked up, she found herself standing in front of a smiling young man with sparkling blue eyes.

  He spun her around and around, his hands strong and sure on her waist, until the rest of the jubilant city seemed to fall away. He smiled at her again, and suddenly, the only thing that mattered was this dance. Together. He held her gaze, eyes twinkling, pulling her closer until she was pressed against the strong lines of his chest.

  “You freed us, my Queen,” he whispered in her ear.

  “I am not a queen,” Alice replied. She couldn’t be. She had to go home—to Mother, Father, Dinah.

  “Empress, then.” He winked.

  Alice found herself smiling back at him. “Not that, either.”

  Her partner raised an eyebrow as though he was laughing at her. “We shall have to find a title that suits you.” His smile broadened as he pulled her closer, folding his arms more tightly around her.

  “I don’t want a title,” Alice murmured. “I want—”

  The man cupped her chin, turning her face upwards so that she was looking up at him. His expression became serious, as he looked down at her. “What do you want?”

  They paused in the middle of the dance. Still, in a sea of movement.

  Alice’s breath caught in her throat. She looked up into his bright blue eyes. What did she want? To go home? She could—all she had to do was go. After all, she’d just saved these people from their tyrant queen. As the people danced and laughed around them, Alice found she couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than to give herself over to the elation of the moment and dance with this handsome stranger. She shook her head, letting out a little laugh, as she relaxed against him, enjoying the feel of his body against hers.