Rotten Rapunzel (Dark Fairy Tale Queen Series Book 3)

by Anita Valle

  “Rapunzel?”

  “What?”

  Kay lifts a hand. “The king and queen.”

  Oh. I should’ve been looking at the people. The two chairs hold a man and a woman, both of them staring at me. They are large people and their clothing is heavy and overdone. Especially on the woman. She just takes up too much space, her dress is nothing but puffs and ruffles in a shocking shade of purple. She looks like fabric exploded.

  I turn to Kay. “That’s the queen?”

  Kay stiffens. The queen, who was frowning before, frowns harder. “Kay, what is this?”

  “Uh, Aunt Lunilla, this is my friend, Lady Rapunzel. Rapunzel, this is Queen Lunilla.”

  I don’t like her. Don’t like her hard, square face and heavy cheeks. Or her red hair, even brighter than mine, all fussed up and curled in odd places. I can only describe her as glamorously ugly. An attack on the eyes.

  “Where’s your curtsy, child?” Lunilla asks.

  Sugar. I don’t know how to curtsy. And I don’t really see why I should before this mess. So I shrug.

  “Did you bring me an idiot, Kay?” Lunilla asks. Her eyes drop to my boots. “Or a country peasant?”

  “Oh no! No, no, no, Aunt Lunilla. Pardon my friend, she… she has been ill. For a long time. She may have forgotten-”

  “She looks familiar.” Lunilla squints her eyes at me. “Do I know your family, Runzel?”

  “Rapunzel. No.”

  “Hmm… your face annoys me, though. Like I’ve seen it before. Turn your head! Let me see your profile.”

  I don’t like the bossy way she talks. So I don’t turn my head. Kay shifts his weight toward me and whispers, “Please.” Oh fine, I’ll do it for him. I turn my chin to my left shoulder.

  “Look at her, Cooper. Does she look familiar to you?” Lunilla asks.

  Now, I notice the king. And at first, I think it’s Barker from The Wood. Huge and hairy, like him. But this man is slightly different. His beard is a faded shade of brown and looks combed. He has all ten of his fingers. And better clothes.

  “I don’t know her,” he says gruffly.

  “She doesn’t live nearby.” Kay says.

  “Ill-bred, obviously. That hairpiece is absurd.” Lunilla drops her eyes to the braid hanging from my arms. “Kay, why did you bring an ignorant country girl to our celebration?”

  I feel hot all at once, scorching mad. “I am NOT an ignorant country girl. I am a princess! My mother was Cinderella, your former queen. So, do not mock me!”

  Lunilla looks utterly frozen. Her heavy lips are parted as she gazes at me. “You… are Cinderella’s daughter.” She sounds amazed. “Why didn’t I see it? She’s right there in your face. And in your attitude.” With a half-smile, her eyes slide to Kay. “Where did you find her?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Kay mutters. He doesn’t look happy at all. “Listen, I’m sorry we’re late. We had a long walk-”

  “Nobody cares.” She speaks to Kay but keeps her eyes on me. “Cindy’s daughter, well, well, well. What a treasure. You must keep her with us, Kay, at the head table. She’s a royal guest.”

  “Thank you, but….” Kay draws a deep breath. “I wasn’t planning on putting her at the head table. She’s been out of society for a long time and I thought a quiet corner would be better. I’ll stay with her.”

  “I would much prefer that,” I say. I don’t understand the talk of head tables but I know what quiet corners are. I want to get away from this purple cow.

  Lunilla puffs up like an angry bird. Before she can speak, the king cuts in. “Go ahead, Kay. We thought you weren’t coming and gave your place to Prince Eric and his wife.”

  “We’ll tell them to move,” Lunilla says.

  “That’ll make a ruckus. Let’s keep it nice, we don’t want a lot of noise, upsetting the baby.”

  Lunilla scowls. “All right, fine, just for dinner. But don’t go far, Runzel! I will speak to you later.”

  “Thank you.” Kay bows and almost yanks me away. We cross the room again and I’m aware that people are looking at me. I don’t like how it feels. I want to brush those strange eyes off my skin like spiders.

  We don’t go back to the stairs. In the middle of the room, Kay swerves to the left. The wall ahead is lined with huge mirrors and I’m startled when I see myself and Kay in them. I can’t imagine why the mirrors are here. Does the queen get dressed in this big room?

  Kay takes me to the last chair at the last table. We are literally in the corner, with the wall on two sides. But our chairs are facing outward, so I can watch what’s going on. Kay sinks into the chair beside me and drops his head in his hands. “Oh Zelly.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I wish you hadn’t told her that.”

  “Told her what?”

  “Whose daughter you are. It’s my fault, I should’ve warned you.”

  I’m startled by a blast of music and a loud voice announcing supper. The people break apart from each other and head for the tables. A few of them are coming our way. My hands start to tremble. I’ve never seen this many people before and I don’t know what I should do.

  Kay drops his voice low. “I didn’t realize you were Cinderella’s daughter. You didn’t tell me.”

  “I told you I was Snowy’s sister,” I whisper. The people are getting into the chairs.

  “Yes. But Snowy’s mother wasn’t Cinderella. I didn’t make the connection. I should have. But I thought her children didn’t survive.”

  “Well, I did. Is that a problem?”

  “Yes,” Kay says. “It means you have a claim to the throne and Aunt Lunilla won’t like that. The people have pretty much accepted her as queen because they can’t do much about it. But among those who have lived here for generations, there’s a lot of debate about who rightfully should be in power. Most agree that Snow White is the rightful queen. But she ran away from it. Now you, as King Edgar’s second daughter, have the strongest claim. You might not care about that but Aunt Lunilla will.”

  Oh, I care. I’m thrilled I have the strongest claim. I always knew I deserved to be the queen.

  Kay says little more because the people arrive at our table. A lady in a yellow dress greets him in surprise and questions why he’d be at the bottom table. Kay laughs it off and introduces me and I give her a quiet smile. I have no idea what I should say.

  A whole bunch of slim, serious men carry out plates of food and set them on the tables. I have read about feasts in my storybooks, about platters of food piled high. But to see it – meats and fruits and breads and cheeses stacked up like mountains is more wonderful than I imagined. It looks too beautiful to touch but everyone does.

  The yellow lady likes talking to Kay and doesn’t try to speak to me at all. Which is fine because I want to look at the people. I stuff my mouth with the best pork I ever had and just stare at them.

  It’s strange and fascinating and disturbing. So many different kinds of faces. At my table is a man who has bright green eyes that I find amazing and beautiful. And a lady with white hair and wrinkly skin that hangs very loose on her neck. A man with a large, bony nose who waves his hands a lot when he talks. A stout lady with two chins and breasts so large, they don’t fully fit inside her dress. Everyone’s skin is a slightly different shade, some as pale as Snowy, some reddish and rough, some dark brown and shiny. I notice my red hair color is not common. Other than the queen, there’s only two other heads in the room like mine.

  I crane my neck to look further out. That must be the head table near the top of the room. I see the king and queen and their friends, also overdressed and over decorated. They sit on one side, looking out across the room, unlike our tables which have seats all around.

  I shift my gaze to the next table near them, in the exact opposite corner from where I’m sitting. I gasp and grab Kay’s arm, my eyes nearly jumping out of my head.

  “Those are fairies!”

  ~*~ 19 ~*~

  I count them. Twelve fai
ries at the table. Sitting on chairs without backs, leaving their wings unhindered. Their dresses are simple and flowing, without sleeves, gathered by a cord at their waists. I can’t tell what they’re eating but each of them has a tiny gold plate.

  “I want to see them closer!” I start to get up but Kay grabs my arm. “Not yet! Nobody can stand before the meal is over.”

  “I’m done!” I indicate my empty plate.

  “The king and queen are not and that’s all that matters. We have to stay put.”

  I sigh. More waiting. And it seems to take a very long time. I thought we had plenty of food on our tables but the slim, serious men take away the platters and bring back more. This time with cakes and pastries and pies. I secure a square of gingerbread but I’m too full to do more than nibble at the corners. The yellow lady decides to talk to me for a while, which I find more stressful than enjoyable.

  At last, the platters are taken away. And I don’t know how this happens, but everyone stands up at once, which confuses me. How do they know? What are we doing?

  The people turn toward an open area near the center of the ballroom. A strange lady is pushing out a wooden box that stands on wheels. It’s very shiny, with flowers cut into the wood, and one side of it has a little hooded canopy. She leaves it in the middle of the room.

  “What’s that?” I ask Kay.

  “The nurse with the prince’s cradle. It’s… like a small bed.”

  “Is he in there?” I crane my neck but can’t see inside it. The people are leaving the tables, moving toward the open floor. I shuffle forward with Kay, wondering how everyone knows what to do. They form a massive ring around the cradle but stop a good thirty feet away from it. How does this help us? I still can’t see anything!

  Now the king and queen appear, walking to the cradle. Lunilla’s arm is curled around a small object wrapped in blankets and in the crook of her elbow I see the tiniest of faces…. The baby! My heart flies to the ceiling. I want to see it! I want to touch it!

  The queen frustrates me enormously by lowering that perfect tiny face into the cradle. She stands with the king, the two beaming with pride. “Thank you all for coming to the celebration of our son, little Jack. He’ll be your next king, you know!” She gives a smug smile. “At this time, we invite the fairies to bestow their gifts upon the prince. May he grow into the best king this land has ever known and help us ensure that nothing evil ever returns to our kingdom.”

  The fairies drift out from the crowd, one by one. They are heavenly, like they’re made of spring air and starlight. Their long hair floats, their dresses glow. Their feet are bare except for tiny flowers entwined around their toes.

  And their gifts for the prince aren’t booties and bells. Oh gobs, no. The first fairy waves her wand above the cradle and says, “Kindness.” The next fairy waves her wand and says, “Courage.” And it goes on from there, with the little prince receiving gifts of Health, Beauty, Charm, Passion, Strength, Happiness, Gentleness, Diligence and Confidence.

  “Ugh.” Kay gives a grimace. “When he grows up, he’ll be so disgustingly perfect, everyone will hate him.”

  I lift an eyebrow. “What’s wrong, didn’t you get fairy gifts when you were born?”

  “No.” Kay scowls. “I was born in a prison.”

  “What?” I ask, wide-eyed. But we don’t get time for an answer.

  BANG! The double doors at the top of the stairs slam shut. A gust of wind rushes down through the ballroom, snuffing every candle and chandelier at once. The people gasp as our golden room drops into somber gray. I begin to smell smoke, just faintly, from the smothered wicks.

  “What’s happening?” I ask Kay.

  “I don’t know.”

  Smoke rises in thin gray lines from the candles on the tables, from the brackets on the walls, from the chandeliers above our heads. It should dissolve within seconds but it doesn’t. If anything, it’s getting thicker.

  “Is there a fire?” someone cries. No, we can see there isn’t. The room darkens as the windows get obscured by smoke. The shapes of the people become hazy. The snuffed wicks continue to pour smoke into the room; it sinks down from the ceiling, rises up from the floor.

  I look down and can’t see my feet. My eyes sting, my nostrils burn with the sharp stench of smoke. I’m coughing, coughing hard, and so is everyone else. But through that toxic fog we all hear a voice.

  “And why wasn’t I invited to the feast?”

  ~*~ 20 ~*~

  I try to squint through my watery eyes. But it’s all gray fuzz. I hear a snap and see a momentary flare of light. The smoke begins to slide away from us. As quickly as it came, the smoke is drawn forward, gathering like a cloud near the front of the room. Then it swirls down, funneling into a point, and dissolves into the bowl of an old clay pipe. The pipe is held by a fairy.

  Everyone stares, silent and shocked. Especially me. The wings tell me she’s a fairy but she’s not the pretty kind. She wears a faded green dress in bad need of ironing. Her gray hair looks like a lopsided mushroom planted on top of her head. She stands just a few steps up on the staircase and sucks the pipe from the corner of her mouth.

  “Hmph. Cozy little gathering you’ve got here. Where’s the brat?” She drops down the last few steps and the people split away from her, opening the way into the room. She sees the king and queen standing over the cradle. “Ooh, there he is! The little goosie.”

  “You’re not WELCOME here!” Lunilla screams. She’s bent over the cradle with her hand inside it and I imagine she was covering the baby’s face when the smoke was on us.

  “Well, that part I figured out when my invitation didn’t show up.” The old fairy struts forward, a hand on her hip. “And why not? I would’ve brought a nice gift for the little bambino.”

  “I don’t want your gifts!” Lunilla hisses. “I don’t want you anywhere near my child. Now GET OUT!”

  “Or what, dearie? You’ll do what?” The old fairy pokes the pipe in her mouth and waits for an answer. Curls of smoke leak out around her face.

  The king holds up a hand. “Look – we didn’t think you’d want to come anyway. We didn’t think you’d take offense.”

  “That you wanted the other fairies and not me? Oh no, nothing personal there!”

  “Of course, it’s personal!” Lunilla cries. “You were the one who helped – HER! You helped her become the queen! While Melodie and I spent eight years in prison!”

  “Hmm…. After which you escaped during the war, charmed the big fellow here, and the two of you took over the kingdom. So, I’d say you have little to complain about.”

  “You are Cinderella’s fairy godmother,” Lunilla says. “You will never be welcomed in my family!”

  Oh my blood and bones. This is the wicked fairy. Who tried to kill Snowy but ended up killing my mother instead. The one known as Godnutter.

  The old fairy – Godnutter – cocks her head. “So that’s your answer? You won’t ask me to stay?”

  The king looks like he’s considering it but Lunilla shouts, “Never!” And a hard silence falls, a silence that suddenly feels like a decision.

  “As you wish.” Godnutter smiles. “But I won’t leave without first bestowing my gift on the prince. I’ve cooked up something special for him.”

  One of the young, pretty fairies lifts her hands. “Helena! The queen has asked you to go. Respect her wishes and leave this family in peace. You have done enough harm.”

  “Oh, I have not even begun!” Godnutter says. “You think I’ll allow this, Lunilla? It’s bad enough that you’re on the throne the rightfully belongs to my Cindy. But now you plan to pass it on to your child! Mark my words, Cinderella will return, and every one of you will suffer for your treachery.”

  I frown. She must be mad. Not even magic can bring back the dead.

  With a flick of her wings, Godnutter rises and hovers above the cradle. “Listen all!” She spreads her arms. “Your little prince shall grow in charm and courage and those other ridiculo
us things. I’ll let you enjoy him for a little while. But he’ll never have the throne that belongs to my goddaughter. On his sixteenth birthday – the year he comes of age - he shall prick his finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel… and drop dead!”

  She aims the tip of her pipe at the cradle. A jet of white sparkles shoots out. But they don’t strike the prince. At the last moment, a young girl springs out of the crowd and throws herself over the cradle.

  ~*~ 21 ~*~

  The sparkles strike the young woman, burst, and rain down on her body, dissolving into her hair and clothes. She straightens herself and faces the fairy. Kay draws a sharp breath.

  Godnutter looks shocked. “BEAUTY!” Her voice snaps across the air like ice cracking. “Stupid girl! What have you done!”

  “You can’t just curse a baby!” the girl shouts.

  “You just cursed yourself!” Godnutter says. “It’s on you now!”

  “So? Just take it off me! It’s your curse.”

  “Because it’s my curse, I can’t take it off you!” Godnutter says. “You should know that!”

  “You told me all magic can be reversed!”

  “Not like that!” Godnutter snaps her fingers. “What were you thinking! Why didn’t you stay at home?”

  “I wasn’t missing the party just because you weren’t invited. I have my own life!”

  Godnutter stares at her and slowly shakes her head. “Not for much longer, you don’t. You’ll be sixteen next month.”

  Wow. Rotten luck. So, this is Beauty. I study her with curiosity. It’s hard for me to tell what people consider beautiful but she’s pleasant to look at. Her eyes have lots of lashes around them and her cheeks are a pretty color. She has dark brown hair that drops around her in long, wavy lines. And her dress is gold. And by that, I don’t mean burnt ochre or bright yellow, I mean gold. Like someone melted it and wove it into a dress.

  Lunilla is looking quite pleased with all this. She scoops the baby out of the cradle and rubs his back. “Well! I guess your curse was a total flop. Not the first time that’s happened to you, is it? Maybe you should find a new hobby.”