“We are the children of Princess Aurora,” Morning explained. “We were born whilst our mother was under the sleeping spell of the fairies. While we don’t look any older than sixteen, we’ve been living with the fairies in Matakin for many years more our age. The Fae Gaia brought us here and tasked us to find a girl named Patience. Please sir, it’s of a very timely matter we’re told.”
Henry scoffed. “Everything is urgent to everyone,” he grumbled. Then the elderly majordomo held out his hand, “I shall see that she gets it.”
Morning clutched the leather satchel. “With all due respect, it is ours to give to her. Your General White said you would know where she was. If you could lead us to her it would be far quicker for both of us than us having to wander about a castle that we are not allegianced to. Should we tell your General you were not willing to cooperate?”
“Very well,” Henry relented. “I’d have one guess where she might be. Follow me.”
***
Henry was flanked by Day and Morning as they stood at the entrance to the royal catacombs, where they had laid out Catherine Brown for viewing. A few candles were lit for a warm light and the heavy smell of flowers and spices mixed with burning incense were poignant about the air.
Patience was dressed for travel, donning a hooded, black cloak lined with thick fur, and large black boots. She had rested a pack full of supplies and even a small sword she carried on her belt. Anger and sadness boiled in her eyes, though.
“Patience,” Henry politely called out. “This is Day and his sister, Morning. They are friends of the Fae Gaia, and would like to speak to you when you are ready.”
“Fae Gaia has a gift for you— “Day started.
“If I had stayed away, my mother would still be alive,” Patience turned her head as she spoke, her words were mournful and bitter. “If it wasn’t for the God Mother fairy, I would have remained in the castle, trapped along with everyone else, never to have left her side. But because of the Fae I was forced to leave. I didn’t want to leave, I didn’t want to be the guardian of those damn glass slippers and upon finally coming home—my mother is now dead. She died trying to save me. I’d wish for it to be the other way around. I was gone for five years; she probably thought I was dead, anyway. I lost my mother because of fairy magic, and I lost my closest friend too. I’m not interested in another gift of the Fae. I came down here to pay my final respects before I leave, Henry. The war is over.”
“If that’s the case, you’ll really like this gift, Patience,” said Day with a reassuring smile.
“You don’t know what I will like!” Patience shouted back angrily, hurt and upset. “I don’t want any more fairy magic!”
“It’s not fairy magic. But it can bring back your mother. Fae Gaia wanted you to have it. It’s not a darker magic either. It’s called the water of life and death. It works. The fairies got it from a powerful gray wolf a long time ago. It comes from a place far north where only crows can fly. The wolf used it to bring a Prince named Ivan back to life after he was chopped up into pieces by his brothers, and —”
“Alright, son, I think we understand. That’s enough details,” Henry interrupted.
Day went to show Patience the two flasks. As he opened the leather flap of the satchel, there was a flash and ethereal mist began to flow out of the bag. It gathered on the on the ground and as the three children and Henry looked on, the mist collected and grew taller, swirling about it formed an ethereal shape of Fae Gaia.
“Patience,” the misty figure spoke. “If you are seeing me in this form, I am sorry to say I have passed on. These are dark days for any child who has lost a mother. I see the parallels the loss of a child's mother in both Ella and now you, Patience. Ella’s strength and character allowed her to survive and persevere after my death. But sprung from those circumstances it eventually led her down a dark path. I would fear a similar fate for you as you struggle with your tragedy; frustration anger and resentment. It was not fair of the Fae Gaia to place such a heavy burden; to entrust to you the magic of the glass slipper shards and then to pull you away from your only family. Fair? No, but in desperate days what is right in those times is not always what is fair. It was a heroic act and the ultimate price was paid. A good parent is always prepared to pay for her child; to give her life to save yours. And something I am truly sorry that had happened. But all is not of loss. No child should be without its mother. I cannot alter my own fate. Ella’s mother has passed beyond, but I can alter yours… and give you back what was wrongfully taken from you after you sacrificed so much for the Fae Gaia, the kingdom and your friends. Please, Patience, I offer a chance to walk this path of magic one last time, for yourself this time. For the path you otherwise choose will only lead to a darker spirit and ruin.”
The misty form of Fae Gaia’s message evaporated and faded to nothingness.
Patience started at Day and then over at Henry and Morning. Silent for a moment, she looked over at her mother’s body, then back at Day again. Her eyes focused on Day with intense resolve.
“What do I do?” Patience said with sudden urgency and hushed excitement.
Day pulled out the flask of still water. “This is the water of death. Pour this on the body it will heal any wounds,” He said.
Quickly, Patience grabbed the flask and she pulled the ornate stopper and began pouring the water over her mother’s body in a hurried motion she shook every drop making sure she poured plenty on her mother’s fatal stab wound. As Patience did that, Day pulled the glowing flask of sparkling water.
“The water of life—pour this one on her body as well and it will restore her life,” Day instructed. “That’s all- it should work.”
Morning offered her a reassuring smile and an encouraging nod.
Patience handed him back the now empty bottle and then took the sparkling water flask. Pulling the stopper in one quick motion, she splashed the sparkling glowing water over her mother’s body. With the small flask now empty, Patience discarded the bottle and hovered desperately over her mother’s body, hoping and waiting; looking for any sign the magic had worked.
There was no flash of light or sparkling transformation. But then Patience’s heart swelled with joy. Her mother yawned and opened her eyes.
“How long I must have slept!” Catherine said as she sat up, stretching as if she had just woken from a night of slumber.
“Mother!” Patience cried out happily, tears fell freely from Patience’s eyes as she hugged her mother tightly. Pressing her face against her mother’s warm bosom, Patience could hear her mother’s heart beating and it comforted her.
Patience raced over to Day and excitedly gave him a hug and kiss on his cheek. “Thank you!” She beamed.
Catherine looked somewhat confused as she began to take in her surroundings. She looked over at Henry about to inquire when Henry cut her off.
“Why are you down here on a slab in the catacombs?” Henry said, guessing at the chambermaid’s look of confusion. “It would be a long story. But we are happy to have you back, Catherine,” he said stiffly. “And when you are feeling better, Catherine, we’ll need to discuss your new promotion to Assistant Majordomo.”
CHAPTER 53
THE WARRIOR QUEEN OF MARCHENTON
Marchenton Castle, Day Five
“This is the part I hate, Henry,” Snow White grumbled as Henry fidgeted with the crown, adjusting it on Snow White’s head as she stood in the formal, elegantly beaded champagne colored dress of the queen.
“Yes, I recall you also didn’t like Brussels sprouts as child either,” Henry replied dryly pulling another hairpin from the side of his mouth and securing the crown. “Now that we are about to sit at the grownup table, there will be harder things to swallow than Brussels sprouts and coronation ceremonies.”
“This is hardly a coronation ceremony,” Snow White brushed off Henry’s harsh wit and his usual biting commentary. “It’s a signing paperwork ceremony, Henry. We’ve hardly a day to recover. And I still d
on’t like Brussels sprouts,” Snow reaffirmed, adjusting the crown back to its original position as soon as the majordomo turned away to look for more holding pins.
He turned back and looked Snow White over for any last minor detail to fix. “Everyone together can accomplish much in a day if they want to. Cleaning and rebuilding; people want to get back to normal as quickly as possible. There are rules to be upheld, and people want a leader, they need to see a queen. It gives them hope… now, turnaround.”
“I was a leader, and I gave people hope before I had to wear a dress—” Snow White stopped as she finally saw herself for the first time in the royal mirror. It gave her pause for a moment.
“I look like my mother,” Snow White said flatly.
“You should be so lucky,” Henry said teasing her in his droll sarcastic fashion. “But your black-as-pitch hair does show off the crown quite well. I don’t know where you got your hair color from; both your parents and grandparents had blonde hair.”
“I wish Phillip was here to see this. I was getting used to the idea having my brother around again. He’d probably laugh me,” Snow said quietly.
“But on the inside he would be proud of you, Lady Snow, as your mother and father would be. And as I am right now,” admitted Henry as he handed Snow the royal scepter.
There was a soft knock on the door; Phyllo Dendroba pushed it open slightly, and stepped into the small readying room adjacent to the le large receiving hall.
“You look absolutely beautiful,” Phyllo stopped in mid-step admiring her, and then offered, “You wear the crown well.”
“I look like my mother,” Snow said again, curling a frown to the side of her mouth. “But look at you, you clean up rather nice, Phyllo Dendroba, Prince of Frogs.” She teased.
His attire was rather princely, with a navy colored short coat with grey trim and a grey-buttoned shirt. He wore black-buttoned pants tucked into shined black royal boots. A maroon sash crossed his large barrel chest and broad shoulders. His hair was neatly trimmed.
Embarrassed, Phyllo was almost apologetic. “I never really had any sort of formal dress attire. I had to find some things from the kings’ old wardrobe and a few things from Phillip’s trunk. I hope you don’t mind,” he said, adding, “The boots are a little tight.”
“Dendroba, I’d like for you to stay on as my advisor,” Snow White said. “And with Rapunzel gone, I’ll need a second-in-command to make sure what happened with Cinderella doesn’t happen again. Not that I plan on going to war anytime soon. There’s a lot of work to be done to get the castle and the kingdom back in shape, and you know the inside of this castle as well as I do, even better. You’d make a great heir apparent to the throne.”
“It would be an honor,” Dendroba replied, a rare smile escaped his usually stoic expression. He paused for a moment then said. “Still no sign of Cinderella, though. I have had men search the entire castle grounds. I’ve taken care of the Maldame’s remains personally.”
“Fine,” said Snow. “Good riddance. Perhaps the Fae Gaia dealt with Queen Cinder; some last magic spell or something. That huge glass coffin was gone as well. Call off the search for now, we’ve more immediate things to deal with,” Snow White paused. “I’m sorry Dendroba, I know you were raised by the Maldame; good or bad she was the mother you knew. You barely met your birth mother before she was taken as well.”
“It was easier being the monster,” Dendroba admitted guardedly. “I’m not sure if I’m better as the prince or the beast.”
“I know,” replied Snow White. “It’s easier to carouse with dwarves then rule a kingdom. Yet here we are. Henry says it will get easier with time.”
“I never said any such thing, Lady Snow,” Henry interrupted. “Are you ready then?” he asked. “It‘s time to go.”
Nervously hesitating, Snow White looked at herself again in the mirror, Queen Snow of Marchenton, she thought to herself. It was only two days since the battle and the alterations to her mother’s dress were quick. Snow White felt frumpy and silly in the royal gown, about to be paraded out in front of everyone as the winner of some childish dress up contest. The gown was itchy and stifling and confining around the neck, overly warm and hard to breathe in. Dwarven plate armor is more comfortable to wear than this stupid dress. Snow White frowned, and then an idea crossed her mind.
“My queen?” Henry asked again. “Are we ready to go?”
“Henry, I am queen, right? She asked.
“Yes, Queen of the Fashionably Late,” Henry answered.
“Then no, I am not ready to go yet,” Snow White began to rip off the confining dress that sent beading and buttons clattering to the floor. Henry’s wizened faced seem to stretch taught with aghast disbelief.
“Dendroba, call for a dwarf and have them fetch my armor. Spit and polish it on the way,” she ordered.
With an approving smile and a nod, Phyllo rushed out of the room. “Yes Ma’am,” he said happily.
“Tell the gathered crowd to wait just a few more minutes,” she shouted after him. “And Henry, pick your jaw up off the floor!” Snow said as she shuffled and shimmied out of the dress.
“This is most uncalled for!” Henry huffed in exasperation.
She balled the dress quickly in her arms tossed it out of her way and into the corner of the room.
“If I’m going to be queen, it’s going to be on my terms. If I’m going to lead, I cannot do by following in other’s footsteps. That’s not leadership,” Snow said hurriedly finally able to breathe. “And the best thing we can do to ensure the sovereignty of our kingdom to not be threatened again is to not just to continue in the same old manner.”
Snow White, still in her under-dressings, went to the small writing desk in the corner and grabbed the formal announcement scroll and flipped it over to the blank side.
“Not the announcement scroll!” Henry exclaimed. He nearly swooned at the abrupt disregard of royal traditions.
Dipping a pen into the ink Snow White quickly began to write, still talking to the stupefied majordomo as he went to inspect the discarded gown. “I didn’t win the kingdom on my relation to the throne or fashion sense for that matter. It was won by being the person fighting for what she believes in and that’s who will sit on the throne.”
“There are protocols, this… this is unheard of,” answered Henry stammering in protest, nearly weeping at a huge rip in the delicate material caused by Snow’s hastily undressing.
“There will be new protocols, then. You wanted me on the throne, Henry. This is what you are going to get. Get used to it or find somebody else.”
Snow White jabbed the pen to the paper with finality as she finished writing, emphasizing her last word as she did. “Read that when you announce me,” she handed the scroll to Henry, his arms full of the dress.
There came a hurried sound to the door and quick series of knocks.
“Now what?” Henry sighed in exacerbation.
The door creaked open slowly and dwarf, red-faced and out of breath, stood in the doorway, his arms overflowing with the polished pieces of Snow White’s armor.
“Much better!” said Snow White.
***
A large crowd of people packed in to the audience hall of Marchenton Castle. Still damaged from the attack of the Jabberwock several nights ago, the room was cleared up and redressed as best as it could be. A huge hole in the ceiling where the monster had crashed through now provided a beam of golden afternoon sunlight in a bright shaft fell upon the throne. To the right of that was a small table and two chairs as elegantly crafted as the throne nearby. There was the click and close of a door and immediately the impatient murmuring of the idle crowd hushed.
Henry, the elderly majordomo, stood somewhat frailly beside the throne. He cleared his throat and pulled out the announcement scroll. Then he unraveled the scroll, and with a heavy sigh, flipped the scroll over to read the back.
Henry announced to the crowd in a loud regal voice, “Announcing… the Warrior Qu
een of Marchenton, Snow White…” Then added quickly of his own improvisation, “Marchen.” Henry would at least remind them and her, of her lineage even if Snow White had not written that last part herself.
The room broke out into huge applause as Snow White appeared. Even from the balconies above and down the halls people had gathered to see the new queen. From outside she could her more applause as even more crowds had gathered. She wore her familiar armor, though added her mother’s royal cloak. Snow White’s dark hair was put up in beautiful cascading curls, upon which sat the royal crown, ornate and silver and bejeweled with hundreds of diamonds and sapphires.
Snow White stood by the table and raised her hands to quiet the cheering crowd.
“Today marks a new day,” she started, her confident voice that had been used for shouting orders to dwarves, now rang upon the castles royal walls with the same intensity.
“After years of isolation, and imprisonment behind thorny briar and ruthless oppression, The Kingdom of Marchenton is whole again.”
Huge cheers erupted at the proclamation.
“The castle is reunited with its kingdom and finally we can start to heal; and we shall rebuild.”
More cheers and applause from the gathered crowd forced Queen Snow to pause. Finally able to talk above the crowd she continued.
“Today we see two forces that will put aside their hostilities and lay down their weapons of war,” as she said that Queen Snow gestured behind her. Amid surprised gasps, Alice emerged from a parting of the crowd behind the table, Alice, the former Queen of Wonderland, her broken leg now braced and wrapped, made her way next to Snow White with the help of crutches.
“Today we shall see the signing of the Marchenton-Wonderland treaty and a new unity will be forged that shall make our kingdom even greater!” Snow White announced to the gasps and whispers of the crowd.
Henry silently moved to the table, placing elaborate feather quills and ink bottles and unraveled a long scroll. Snow White stepped to the table and read aloud from the scroll; facing Alice as she spoke. “This treaty recognizes the complete surrender of Wonderland’s forces to the Kingdom of Marchenton. In return, the throne of Marchenton recognizes such diplomatic efforts and will not seek punishment upon Wonderland’s army. In return for its leniency and given that your army is unable to return to its own land, the throne of Marchenton will offer asylum to you and the soldiers of your army, with land to settle and the promise of a new life, in exchange for helping to rebuild a greater Marchenton and all cessation of aggression towards our throne. Alice, you will be the royal liaison of your people in all issues, to ensure this transition.”
Shards Of The Glass Slipper: Queen Alice Page 34
