Stroke of Midnight: Future Fairytales

by Dawn, Stella

  Petros

  We make the jump in time to hear the sound of an alert going off.

  The Captain calls out, "We are being breached by Royal Command."

  Our unlikely travel party is greeted by a mid-sized captain who has the look of a lizard. The captain's eyes are slits and they slide from side to side taking all of us in.

  "We received little warning of your visit. I am at your disposal, your Highness."

  "Good. Call everyone on board to come to the main deck. I am looking for someone and I want to see everyone on board."

  The captain's orders reverberate through the small ship.

  I don't have long to wait before the central galley of is filled with passengers and crew.

  "Stand in two lines. We need to inspect each passenger."

  There is a low murmur of grumbling and confusion, but soon the passengers sort themselves out and stand in roughly straight lines.

  I walk down the middle looking back and forth. I don't see her.

  Prince Rupert says, "Why do you think she'd be here? It's such a small ship."

  It begins to look doubtful but I have to trust those scans are accurate.

  * * *

  Cyndi

  My cabin has a search device and I'm trying to discover where I am and how I can escape. The bad news is this ship is basically a garbage vehicle. It picks up compacted refuse and deposits it on each of the three moons of Delta Ohr.

  I try not to have a melt down. I am working on a message to King Petros. I hate asking for favors but this is more important than him and me. I must get back to Charlotte.

  My hands are shaking I'm so angry with Gwendolyn. She's so conniving and cruel but this time her treachery blindsided me.

  I hear a voice over the intercom saying for all passengers to report to the deck. I don't have time for this.

  Someone knocks on my door and yells, "Every one out. That means you."

  I stomp out and report to the galley. This little ship is carrying quite a load. I stand in line just like I'm asked.

  I look around and notice a skinny overdressed woman standing off to the side. Gwendolyn. What is she doing here? I'm furious but I decide to hold my tongue. I don't want things to get any worse than they are.

  Then I see King Petros slowly walking down the aisle looking intently into everyone's face. He makes a steady slow approach.

  Nearly all my problems with King Petros are because I jump to conclusions and speak before I know the facts. I'm traumatized enough to decide to wait a moment before I shoot off my mouth.

  I see him look past me and over my head. He goes down the whole line and says, "Is this everyone you have on ship? Where is she?"

  I'm shocked and furious. I've always found him to be damned infuriating, but I've never known him to be blind. I decide to hold my tongue just a bit longer. I need to figure out what he's up to.

  "I will have your jobs, such as they are. If you don't get her out here where I can see her I will have you working on the receiving end of this enterprise."

  Well that is just ridiculous. I knew he was a spoiled entitled prig but this is too much. I have to say something. These people can't be fired over my reluctance to accept the King's services.

  "Here I am. Right in front of you. You looked right at me." What game was he playing?

  King Petros jumps and spins. He fastens his eyes on me and recognition dawns. "What! You are blue."

  Then his eyes grow tender, and he says more softly, "You're blue." He pulls me into an embrace and I swat him and push him away. I don't know what is going on. What does blue have to do with it?

  I look down at my hands and they are the shade of a delphinium. I don't know how I could have not seen that, I mean, I was working on the search device with my hands and all. Shit. I'm blue. I scream.

  "Don't worry, Cyndi. I will take care of you."

  What the hell? I guess I look like someone who can't hear a word he's said so he says again, "You are blue and I couldn't be happier."

  Still I say nothing. I have the feeling my mouth is flopping like a fish.

  "It means you are going to have my baby."

  "You mean I'm pregnant?"

  "Yes. Don't worry. I'm going to take care of you, forever."

  He draws me into a tight embrace. I begin to feel a bit more solid and maybe I won't freak out when I see my face in a mirror. I'm blue.

  Then I begin to think maybe its not a bad thing. My stomach is starting to do flips and my heart is speeding up. I tingle at his touch. Yes. This could be alright.

  He leans over and kisses me full on the mouth. The sensations that fill me almost make me spin. Maybe its due to space travel. Maybe I haven't eaten in a while. I cling to his arms and don't dare let go because suddenly I don't trust my legs.

  I might even call it a tender moment if we weren't surrounded by double lines of people and I hear Tori squawking down at the end. I turn my head to look at her and see Bastian take Tori's face in his hand and give her what looks like a deep and penetrating kiss. What is going on?

  Then I see Charlotte giving me an uneven smile. I can't blame the kid, with all the bad things I have said about King Cod.

  My gosh, even Dowager Maggie is here. She seems to have plenty of spark left in her, even after teleportation, judging by the smile she beams at the King and me.

  Charlotte gives the old lady a big hug and they hold each other tight. They're almost the same size.

  My heart feels like my pride and happiness and good will is at capacity. But when I see the green look on my step-mother's face, I am even happier.

  Finally the King releases me and I have a chance to linger on my favorite view. His face. He looks different to me too. His face is glowing, really glowing. His skin is a deeper shade of blue than normal. If he didn't look so regal and gorgeous I would possibly worry. What does this mean?

  Dowager Maggie answers my question. "I must say, finding this woman has brought out your true color."

  "As always, it's Cyndi's fault. She brings out the best in me."

  At this point the King drops down to his knee and holds out his hand, "Cyndi, will you marry me?"

  I look at his blue face shining bright with earnest hope. Never has he seemed more commanding than at this moment. I want to say yes, with all my heart but a tiny voice inside asks why.

  "I can't be with you just because I'm pregnant. I need a reason to marry you."

  "That slut thinks she's too good for a King." Gwendolyn says in a dismissive voice.

  The King rounds on Gwendolyn. "I've had enough of your mouth."

  "You know, she is right. She needs a reason. She needs to know how you feel," urges Dowager Maggie.

  The King continues, still on his knees. "I confess, most of my life I believed a woman could never be trusted. Then I met you, with your impossibly loud and boisterous family. You upset my whole order and you made me question everything I believed. I saw your goodness in your daily interactions with your family, you putting the interests of others before your own. The first time I saw you, you ran into my arms. The next time I saw you, you insulted my books, my royal duties and my superiority. I have never felt so unsettled and alive."

  That's all well and good, but he's said nothing to change the fact that it is impossible for us to be together. "It sounds like you are better off without me then. We are like oil and water. A King and a nobody have very little in common. Believe me, you were doing fine until I showed up in your life."

  "That's just it. I was fine. I went through the motions of being a King but there wasn't a man living inside the crown. You stole into my heart when we first met and you ran right into me. I have discovered I just can't let you go."

  "Well, I am grateful for you rescue. I dislike going on unplanned journeys with only the clothes on my back. How did you find me?"

  "I remembered something that distinguishes you from all women. Your enormous shoe size. I checked all the scans for a woman with size 11 feet."

&nbs
p; "Well thank you for announcing that to everyone. That's not a statistic that I am proud of."

  "Large feet are among your best features. I gave your description and, now, of course being blue, there was no match. Neither your age, your sex, nor your skin color hit a match. But when I entered your shoe size, I was able to pinpoint your location on this tiny shuttle. I'm very thankful for your large feet."

  "Well, I've never heard that one before. So, beyond my large feet and my ability to knock you off balance, and my being pregnant, are there any other reasons you wish to marry me?"

  "Did I neglect to say I love you?" The resonance in King Petros' voice acts like a bow going back and forth over the strings of my heart and spine like I am a violin.

  "No, I don't think you mentioned that." My knees suddenly feel spongy and soft. I'm unable to hold myself upright.

  I drop down in slow motion next to King Petros. His arms reach out and pull me into an embrace. "It is not necessary to curtsey to the King when he is on bended knee."

  "Well, perhaps you could remind me again of your question." I'm so breathless I'm not sure he can hear me speak.

  "I love you, Cyndi Burton. May I have the pleasure of your hand in marriage?"

  "Why yes, your Highness, since your reason is the same as my own."

  37

  Epilogue

  Everyone is gathered around the table for luncheon.

  "Something has to be done about Gwendolyn." Cyndi frowns.

  Petros agrees. "She needs to learn a lesson. She tried to separate me from my child and heir."

  Gwendolyn pretends to be very busy spreading her napkin over her lap and keeps her lips pursed and eyes downcast.

  "But remember, she is mother-in-law to both of us," says Rupert.

  Cyndi suggests, "Maybe she could be forced to wear glass slippers for the rest of her life."

  "Or, she could be confined to her room until she can spin straw into gold," laughs Tori.

  "No, I'd like her stuck in the tower until she can grow her own rope," says Dora with a self satisfied smile as she strokes her hair extensions.

  Charlotte laughs and gets into the spirit of the exercise. "Why don't we get lots of space frogs and she can kiss them one by one until she finds a prince."

  Gwendolyn stops smoothing her napkin. "Girls, these ideas are impossible. You've had enough fun. Surely, you won't do that to your own mother. If I hadn't purchased those intergalactic tickets for the whole family, you wouldn't have found these lovely men to marry. I'm owed a debt of gratitude."

  "The firm daddy worked for gave you those tickets as a death benefit. You found an excuse to leave our debts and expenses on earth behind. You've done nothing, unless his death was something you arranged." Cyndi rounded in on Gwendolyn who promptly shut her mouth and gave her best impression of an innocent look.

  "I propose we remove her sleeping meds and replace them with apples." said Tori.

  "Poisoned apples?" asks Bastian with a glint in his eye.

  "No, just apples," Tori smiles at him. She picks up an apple slice from the fruit platter and slips it between her lips.

  Grandmother Maggie says, "Why not make her wear rags to her daughter's weddings? That might be suitable."

  "No, I simply can't be seen in public looking like I'm destitute. Think how would that reflect on my daughters?" Gwendolyn looks around the table frantic to find a look of sympathy among her daughters.

  No one says anything. Gwendolyn continues, "I can live without sleep. I could live in a tower for that matter, but I cannot be seen in public wearing rags!"

  "Does that mean you're ok with kissing frogs?" Charlotte asks with a little smile.

  "Believe me, child, I've kissed more than my share."

  "Rags it is," Dowager Maggie proclaims.

  Gwendolyn stands. "No. I forbid it."

  Tori says, "Perhaps mother, you would rather wear my swan mask to my wedding?"

  Dora giggles. "What fun. And you shall wear the flamingo mask to mine."

  Prince Rupert joins into the fray. "Well, if rags are off the table, then I propose Dora should be in charge of her mother's outfits for the rest of her life."

  "Insufferable. Dora has the worst taste ever. I refuse to be a spectacle as well as a fashion idiot."

  "That's it, mother," says Dora. "Either you wear my flamingo mask to my wedding or you stay in your room."

  Cyndi rests her head against King Petros' shoulder with her face upturned, "I suspect we are going to be coming up with punishments for Gwendolyn for the rest of her life."

  "Well, you do have a very creative family," Petros tells her. "And I would never presume to limit your creativity."

  "It's not just me, Pet. Remember this is largely your fault." Cyndi pats her belly.

  "Then I happily shoulder the blame because I will never cease loving you." Petros leans over and gives Cyndi a quick kiss.

  "On a serious note, think about it. Maggie's never had girls and Gwendolyn's never had boys.

  "I think Dowager Maggie would be pleased with any child," Cyndy says.

  "How could I deserve such ungrateful children?" Gwendolyn whines across the table. No one responds so she takes a great gulp of Chardonnay to wash down her dismay.

  Petros places an arm around Cyndi and waggles his eyebrows. "Nothing would make Maggie happier than to have a horde of grandchildren running through the palace. I say we fill two needs with one deed. Our best revenge is to give Gwendolyn lots of creative grandchildren."

  About the Author

  Stella Dawn is an emerging author of science fiction romance. She has many more books she can’t wait to publish. Thank you for reading.

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