Fairytales Slashed: Volume 8
Page 34
Hardly anyone remembered that there had been someone else in the princess' tower. The head maid seemed convinced that the girl who'd been assigned to watch the princess was somehow responsible—"This is that wench's fault, you mark my words," she'd declared. "I don't know how, but I know she did something! Probably just to spite me!" But by this point the kitchen maids had made sure that everyone had heard of her viciously-held grudge against that particular girl, and her insistence on this absurd conspiracy must have eventually annoyed the wrong person, for she was soon dismissed from the palace in disgrace.
No trace of the princess was ever found. Nor were the possessions that had also gone missing from the tower—whoever (or whatever) had absconded with her had also made away with a trunk of her fine dresses and shoes, but oddly, they'd taken all her old schoolbooks along as well. Only the beautiful dress the princess had been wearing remained, lying in a sad, crumpled little heap on the well-scrubbed floor.
As time passed, it became clear that no earthly force could be responsible for the missing princess (and possibly maid). After all, it wasn't as though she could have simply left on her own, and especially not without her gown! Prince Nathaniel announced that she must have been kidnapped by a powerful sorcerer, and he would set out at once on a grand quest to bring her back, braving life and limb and other such exciting adventurous nonsense. Indeed, he seemed far more interested in the questing itself than in the fate of the princess, but if anyone noticed, they didn't dare say so. At least he was happy again.
So life slowly returned to normal for everyone, except that now the tale of the sleeping beauty had a new ending, with one final delicious mystery. Children throughout the kingdom clamored for the story—especially the children who lived in a village a few leagues from the palace, with a tiny, newly-built cottage just on the border.
The two women who lived in the cottage were only maids, working in the kitchen of the nearby manor house, but there was something special in how they told the tale of the vanishing princess. Theirs was much the same as every other version, but there was a kind of warmth in the words, something that gave them a love and realness that no one else seemed able to capture.
"But what happened to the princess?" the children would demand, tugging at the woman's skirt as she hung up the laundry. The other woman, Betty—who had never entirely answered the question of where she came from, aside from something vague about a faraway kingdom, and who had taken to kitchen work with such endearing enthusiasm that people had eventually become too fond of her to keep asking—she would be out there too, doing the mending and wincing every time she pricked her fingers. Their little dog was almost always at her side, and she would reach down occasionally to rub its ears affectionately.
"Yes, Meg," she would say, giggling, "what did happen to her, after all?"
Meg would always make up a different ending for the day—maybe the fairies had brought her to their castle beyond the mountains to make her their queen, or she was stolen by a lonely dragon who wanted someone to scratch behind his scales. Once, when she was clearly in a very silly mood, she had suggested that the princess fell in love with her maid, sold her dresses and jewels to pay for a cottage, and became a kitchen girl herself. "Who always," she finished, with a pointed glance towards a laughing Betty, "tried to get out of doing her share of the mending."
But no matter what the story was, she would always end it the same way. She would smile over at Betty, in a happy, bewildered sort of way, as if even after years she still woke up not quite believing her luck. And she would ask: "Where do you think she is now, Betty?"
"Wherever she is," Betty would reply, as the sun shone on their little daisy-covered yard, and the children laughed and threw sticks for the dog to run after, and Meg stood there with her arms full of laundry and her face full of love, "you can be sure that she's very, very happy."
About the Authors
KATHLEEN DANIELSON
Kathleen Danielson grew up in the Chicagoland area, where she became a geeky, nerdy tomboy with a dragon’s hoard of books and a taste for sushi. Recently, she relocated to sunny Florida in an attempt to avoid snow for the rest of her life. When she isn’t writing, she keeps bees and haunts book stores.
You can find Kathleen on twitter (@SearskaGreyRvn) and Smashwords (Searska GreyRaven).
MERCEDES VOX
Romance provocateur. Manic stealth author. Fearless gourmet. An epicurean anarchist relentlessly in pursuit of a foolproof cure for ennui. Committed (thrice).
A multi-published hybrid author of romance, erotic romance, and erotica since 2008, Mercedes Vox writes short stories, novellas, and novels with characters running the gamut of human sexual orientation and gender identity. Mercedes previously compartmentalized the work using various pen names, but has since come to the personal conclusion that doing so doesn’t send a very good message. Romantic pairings are clearly defined in the description of each story for the convenience of readers.
Mercedes Vox resides in a quaint seaside town on Cape Cod with a loving partner and several bossy critters.
Website: http://mercedesvox.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/MercedesVox
LOTUS OAKES
Lotus lives in Seattle, where it only rains about half as often as people say, together with her girlfriend, her best friend, and a fluffy obnoxious cowcat that believes he owns the place.
While writing is her first love, she also enjoys cooking and making jewelry. You can reach her by email at nekokoban@gmail.com, on her tumblr, nekokoban.tumblr.com, or her website, http://nekokoban.hanashika.com/, which has most of her old fandom writing available.
CHARLES PAYSEUR
Charles Payseur currently resides in the frozen reaches of Wisconsin, where his partner, a gaggle of pets, and more craft beer than is strictly healthy help him through the long winters. He works an incredibly boring day job so that his nights can be filled with spaceships, magic, and attractive men kissing (and maybe a bit more than kissing…). His work can also be found at Torquere Press, Circlet Press, Dreamspinner Press, and in Lightspeed Magazine’s Queers Destroy Science Fiction! When not writing fiction and poetry, he contributes to a number of blogs and review sites, and runs a home for his thoughts on short speculative fiction at Quick Sip Reviews (www.quicksipreviews.blogspot.com). On Twitter as @ClowderofTwo he annoys the internet with far too many cat pictures and cocktail recipes. He’s also on Facebook, Goodreads, and Google+
TS PORTER
TS Porter is a tiny geek frequently mistaken for a collection of knobbly twigs wearing glasses. When not sleeping, they are usually found obsessively writing or baking sweet delicacies. TS’ physical location and momentum varies, but home is always online.
Tumblr: http://ts-porter.tumblr.com/
ALTHEA CLAIRE DUFFY
Althea Claire Duffy grew up on books in western Massachusetts, and first said she wanted to be a writer when she was four. She gave up on that ambition in her twenties, acquired the traditional writer’s resume of lots of different short-term jobs, and got back into actual writing in her early thirties. In 2014, she sold her first novella.
She lives in a tiny Boston apartment, has day jobs in a cubicle and a library, and sings in a classical chorus. When not occupied with these things, reading, or writing, she’s usually playing computer or tabletop games, or exploring her city and its art museums. A soft, fuzzy center is hidden beneath her cynical, prickly exterior, sort of like an artichoke.
Website: http://www.altheaclaireduffy.com
Twitter: @AltheaCDuffy
Tumblr: altheaclaireduffy.tumblr.com
STEPHANIE RABIG
When not writing, Stephanie can be found hanging out with her kids, making steampunk hats, or trying in vain to buy every pint of Ben & Jerry’s in the store. Loves include fairy tales, mythology, tea, chocolate, and The Avengers. Come say hi on Twitter at twitter.com/stephrabig, and keep an eye out for new projects at stephanierabig.weebly.com.
KODI MARSHALL
Kodi Marshall is a writer, an illustrator, and secretly dreams of being a fairytale princess. She’s pretty sure there’s no such thing as too sappy a romance. She lives in a swamp in New England, which is really much nicer than it sounds, and can be reached at kodirmarshall@gmail.com.