Emerald and the Elf King

by Becky Biggs

  “No, my dear, I’m fine,” she said. “I wish I could say the same for the royal family of Eseland. You see, by the time I arrived at the castle last week, King Spruce had nearly lost his mind. I found him in the tower threatening Harry. Harry was just trying to get the king to see his madness. You can’t argue with lunacy, though.”

  “What happened next?” The voice of King Argos startled Elyria who had gone quiet and was looking off in the distance, trapped in her memory. She shook her head as if to clear it and remember where she was.

  “Well, I didn’t quite know what was happening for a few minutes,” Elyria said, starting her story again a bit shakily.

  “Truthfully, I thought Harry was the one abusing the stone. But when King Spruce tried to steal my magic, I realized what was really going on. I nearly passed out as my magic was draining, but Harry was brave. He fought the king. He won, but it cost Queen Ivy her life. The stone came loose in the struggle and struck her in the head. It killed her instantly.”

  “Oh no,” gasped Queen Willow. “What about the princess? What happened to her?”

  “She was…” Elyria’s voice trailed off and she swallowed before continuing, pain deep in her purple eyes. “She was embracing her mother as Queen Ivy died. I can’t imagine how she’ll cope, poor child.”

  Elyria, King Argos, and Queen Willow simultaneously looked at the sleeping Princess Emerald, their hearts sinking for the other princess.

  “King Spruce was beside himself with grief,” Elyria finally said after a few moments of silence. “I banished him to Ortland with Raina. I couldn’t bear to tear the child from her father. And Harry has been instructed to protect the stone with his life.”

  Elyria stood and stretched her weary joints. The recent events in Eseland had taken their toll on her. “The immediate danger is over, but there are still many creatures in Eseland who are frightened. I know Medina has kept its borders closed to magical creatures since your great-grandmother died, dear Willow, but I’m hoping you can feel compassion for those who are too scared to stay in Eseland. Shelter them. At least for a little while. As a favor to me.”

  “Yes, let them come,” replied Queen Willow passionately. She stood and began pacing back and forth, as she always did when she was thinking hard. “What happened with my great-grandmother was years ago. It’s about time we treated our neighbors as friends rather than enemies.” She paused and turned to King Argos to gauge his reaction. “We will do our best to keep them safe until they are ready to return home.”

  “Absolutely,” agreed the king as he stood and took Elyria’s hand in his. “Think nothing of it. Our home is their home.”

  “Thank you. You are both so kind,” Elyria squeezed the king’s hand gratefully in response. “I sense this is only the beginning of the magical and non-magical worlds needing each other.”

  She turned to her new goddaughter, who was still sleeping, and murmured, “Bless the innocence of the child. Hers will be a different world than we’ve all known.” Elyria looked thoughtfully at the baby for a moment before turning back to the king and queen. “I have one more favor to ask of you.”

  “Certainly, anything!” Queen Willow looked at the king who nodded in agreement.

  Elyria turned toward the back of the room and beckoned at someone who was hidden behind the long green curtains that hung suspended from the large windows. A small wood imp in a maid’s uniform stepped shyly from her hiding spot.

  “This is Maple. She used to work in the castle in Eseland. I was hoping she could find a new home here. Perhaps she could be a companion to the princess.”

  The king and queen smiled at the shy creature, who was only as tall as the queen’s knees, and nodded in affirmation.

  “Of course,” Queen Willow said before stretching out her hand to the wood imp. “Welcome home, Maple.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Maple responded gladly. She had shoulder-length, curly purple hair and mischievous silver eyes. She appeared to be about eleven years old, but it was always hard to tell a wood imp’s age. They were blessed with eternal youth. “Could I trouble you for some of that refreshment you offered earlier?”

  Queen Willow laughed. “Yes, you must be famished from your journey. I’ll order something for you immediately.”

  “Be careful with that one,” Elyria warned as she looked at the imp fondly. “She’ll empty your pantry if you let her.”

  Maple wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at Elyria, causing the three adults to laugh. The imp shrugged and walked over to the cradle where Emerald was just stirring. The princess opened her eyes and gave a big smile to Maple. Maple grinned back and offered the baby one of her fingers, which Emerald grabbed with surprising strength.

  “I think she likes me,” Maple said happily. She started making faces at the princess, causing her to coo and wave her little arms in delight. King Argos, Queen Willow, and Elyria watched the scene with glad hearts.

  “Now, I hope you’ll forgive my hasty departure,” Elyria said, standing and tying her cloak back around her shoulders, “but I have some work to do back in Eseland. I really hoped to stay longer, but I’m afraid I’m needed in the north.”

  “We understand,” the queen responded before adding, “Oh Godmother, thank you for being here.”

  “You’re welcome,” the old woman said, embracing the queen. “My dear, one last thing . . .”

  “Yes,” the queen responded, leaning back a bit to regard her godmother.

  The old woman looked at the baby’s crib with furrowed brows. “Remember, just because things are different, it doesn’t make them bad.”

  Before the queen could ask for clarification, the old woman swept quickly out of the room. The king and queen looked anxiously at each other and then back down to their daughter. Whatever did she mean?

  Chapter Three

  EMERALD TO THE RESCUE

  “Do you think this is chicory?” Emerald asked her friend Maple as she gently touched the light blue petals of the flower before her. They were at the edge of the woods that backed up to the stables behind the castle.

  “Let me see the book,” Maple responded, accepting a worn, leather-bound book from Emerald and handing the princess a half-eaten apple in return. The two friends found the book in the castle library. They were convinced that there might come a day when they needed to know which plants were edible as they went on a mission to save another kingdom from an invasion of giants.

  “Well, it does have a hairy stem,” Maple said, looking back and forth between the description in the book and the live plant. “And the flower looks like the drawing . . . but—”

  She was interrupted by shouts deeper within the castle woods. Emerald and Maple looked at each other in alarm.

  “Sounds like the baker’s boy again,” murmured Emerald.

  “And I’ll bet he’s picking on someone.”

  Emerald and Maple crept closer to the noise, staying hidden behind a clump of bushes. Sure enough, the baker’s boy was leading a small gang of children in tormenting a little elf boy. The elf was backed up against a tree. In addition to the baker’s son, another young boy and two young girls surrounded the elf in a semi-circle, pulling their ears out in mockery of the poor creature and throwing clumps of mud at him.

  “Why don’t you just fly out of here? I’ll bet those ears could take you anywhere!” said the baker’s son, Throckton, in a mocking voice. He threw a clump of mud at the elf as if to encourage the creature to take flight.

  Emerald and Maple looked at each other and nodded in agreement. They dropped the apple and book and dashed out from their observation point behind the group. They pushed their way through the children and stood protectively in front of the elf boy with their hands on their hips and a fierce look on their faces.

  “Stop, in the name of the king!” Emerald demanded, her green eyes flashing and her fiery hair surrounding her head like the mane of a lion.

  “Or what?” chortled Throckton. The tallest and broadest
of the children, he wasn’t afraid of anything. Or anyone.

  “Or I’ll tell my father that you are harassing the magical children,” responded Emerald haughtily. She wished she had a sword. That would probably be more threatening.

  “No, you won’t,” Throckton said, grinning. He scooped up more mud, rolled it into a ball, and began throwing it up and catching it. “Unless you want me to tell your daddy I saw you sword fighting with the stable boy.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Emerald sputtered, flushing a bright crimson that nearly matched the color of her hair.

  “I would and you know it,” he answered. “And then they’ll lock you in your classroom and throw away the key.” He added in a nasal falsetto, “Emerald, you need to behave more like a princess and less like a peasant child.”

  The three other kids in the gang laughed at his impression of the queen. Encouraged by their reaction, Throckton continued. “And then they’ll throw your precious little stable boy in the dungeons. Buh-bye, horse boy!” he said, evilly.

  Emerald’s green eyes narrowed and she gave Maple a look that said, “let’s do this.” With a shriek, the two of them attacked the gang of children. The elf boy took the opportunity to sneak away while the other children were embroiled in a fracas of flailing arms, flying mud, and kicking legs. Though she was tiny, Maple was fierce and she fought just as savagely as any of the other children.

  “Stop! NOW!” A deep voice interrupted the fray. The cluster of children froze and they turned to find the stable boy. At sixteen years old, he towered over all of them and had a lean, muscular build that gave him an authoritative presence.

  “Porter!” Emerald said happily. She had no brother of her own but loved the stable boy like he was one.

  “Emerald.” He nodded at her. “You better get back to the castle. I heard your mother is looking for you.”

  “Oh no! I’m late for my sewing lesson again,” Emerald cried.

  “Come on, Maple! Maybe we can sneak in through the back.”

  The two friends darted off toward the kitchen in hopes of creeping up one of the castle’s hidden passages. As they left, they heard Porter’s gruff voice directed at the remaining children.

  “As for the rest of you, you’ll come with me and muck the stables,” he instructed. There were audible groans from the children. “Now—if you know what’s best for you.”

  The children obeyed. Porter was not one to be tested.

  ***

  Just as Emerald and Maple darted out of the hidden doorway next to Emerald’s fireplace, they came face-to-face with the queen. She looked as surprised to see them as the two friends were to see her, but the queen’s face quickly darkened as she looked the girls up and down. Both were covered in mud and their new dresses had tears in them.

  “Look at you two!” exclaimed Queen Willow, looking at her eight-year-old daughter in dismay. The little princess stood before her mother with her head bowed. Her green silk dress now boasted a torn sleeve and assorted splatters of mud. Her hair was a wild, flaming mess.

  “What am I going to do with you?” Queen Willow cried in exasperation.

  Emerald’s eyes darted down furtively to Maple, who looked half-worried and half-defiant. Maple’s matching dress didn’t look much better.

  The queen threw her hands up in the air. “Why can’t you behave more like a princess? And, Maple, I expect you to set a good example for Emerald!”

  “But, Mama, they were picking on the little elf boy,” Emerald said defiantly. “I had to stop them.”

  “The baker’s boy again?”

  “Yes, he, the cook’s son, and the seamstress’s twins.”

  “They’re a bad group, Your Majesty,” Maple added for good measure.

  The queen sighed. This wasn’t the first time human children had picked on the magical ones. While some (adults included) had accepted the newcomers with open arms, others were highly suspicious of the refuges from Eseland and just wanted them to go back home, even after all these years.

  “Why didn’t you just find an adult?” she asked, rubbing her forehead with a slender and graceful hand.

  “There was no time,” insisted Emerald. “You and Daddy always say that it’s the job of the king and queen to protect the kingdom and the citizens in it. That’s what I was doing—as future queen!”

  “Well, that is true,” the queen said slowly. “But a queen does not fight. Her job is to deal with problems diplomatically. Something you would know if you took your lessons more seriously.”

  “I do, but Mama,” Emerald started unhappily, “didn’t you ever feel like you had to fight to save someone?”

  “I did once,” the queen said, her beautiful face relaxing into a more thoughtful expression. “When I was about your age, my sister was going to be spanked for tearing her dress while playing outside”—she gave Emerald a sharp glance—

  “Something you’re lucky I don’t do to you.” After a brief stare down between mother and daughter, the queen continued, “I didn’t think my sister deserved a spanking, so I slapped my mother. I was dreadfully scared when I realized what I’d done. I was sure that was the end of me. Your grandmother turned to me and just said coolly, ‘A queen must never act in violence. She must always be the steady, peaceful face of the kingdom.’”

  “You smacked GRANDMOTHER?” Emerald gasped, shocked. Her grandmother was one of the most formidable people she’d ever met. Emerald couldn’t imagine anyone, let alone her mother, slapping her.

  “Yes,” Queen Willow answered regretfully. “It was not the proudest moment of my life.”

  “Did she keep spanking Aunt Bella?” Emerald asked, enthralled.

  “No,” the queen responded, shaking her head. “She stopped. Maybe she realized that spanking was itself an act of violence. Whatever her reason, though, she never touched either of us in anger again. And that was the last time I ever responded to a situation physically.”

  “But, Mama,” said Emerald, taking advantage of her mother’s introspective mood, “what if you have no choice but to fight? Like, what if a dragon is attacking the kingdom or something?”

  “Well, that’s what you’ll have a king for.” The queen chuckled.

  “Ugh! I’m not going to ever have a king. I can rule just fine by myself.”

  Queen Willow smiled. “I’m afraid, my dear, you don’t have a say in the matter. It is your duty to one day marry and produce your own heirs to the throne. That is the greatest role of a queen.”

  “That’s so boring! And unfair,” grouched Emerald.

  “Perhaps so, my child,” Queen Willow said gently. “But is it fair for the farmer to work from sunrise to sunset and still sometimes lose his crop? We must live the life we are dealt as best we can.”

  She then clapped her hands and turned her attention to Maple. “Maple,” she said. “I expect you to set a good example for Emerald. She needs your encouragement!”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” the wood imp responded timidly, hanging her head. Sometimes it was very hard for a wood imp to behave, especially when Emerald needed her help fighting injustice in the world.

  “Darling, I know it’s not always easy to behave like a princess, especially when you are young,” Queen Willow said, turning back to her daughter. “But it would mean so much to your father and me if you would put as much energy into your studies as you do into fighting. And if you could keep your dresses clean.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Emerald answered dutifully. She really wanted to honor her mother’s wishes. She just didn’t always agree with her. It made her tummy twist and her insides feel rubbery to be so at odds with both her mother and herself.

  “Now get cleaned up, you two. It’s too late for that sewing lesson, but it is almost time for dinner,” Queen Willow instructed before sweeping out the door.

  After she left, Emerald turned to her friend and whispered,

  “When I’m queen, princesses will be allowed to fight if they need to. I won’t care if my daughter gets muddy
if it’s for a good cause!”

  “Yeah!” Maple whispered back, excitedly. “We can fight dragons and monsters and even if our dresses get dirty, it won’t matter because we can just get new ones!”

  Chapter Four

  A MOTHER’S DESPAIR

  “So, what did ye do this time?” Viola, Emerald’s nursemaid, asked while scrubbing the dirt from under Emerald’s fingernails. By this point, she was accustomed to Emerald and Maple returning to her covered in mud and in need of wardrobe repairs.

  “It was the baker’s son,” piped up Maple from the adjoining tub. Her lavender hair hung in damp strands around her face, making her look somewhat like a wet puppy. “He and his gang were picking on the elf boy again. Emerald bravely fought them off.” She added unabashedly, “I helped too.”

  “That wee rascal.” Viola sighed. “He could use a good whipping. His father’s no better. He was trying to rally a group at the pub earlier this week. Wants to get the magical folk out. Says they’re why folks are getting so sick—” She stopped suddenly and glanced at Maple. “Oh, me and my big mouth. I shouldn’t be telling stories.” She helped Emerald out of the tub and wrapped her with a thick towel that had been warmed by the fire. “Now, what are we going to put ye two in? Do ye even have a dress without a tear?”

  Viola hurried over to Emerald’s wardrobe and away from the conversation. Emerald turned and helped Maple out of the tub, handing her a smaller but equally warm towel.

  “It’s getting worse,” Emerald whispered to Maple.

  “Are they going to send me back?” Maple whispered back, her eyes wide with fright. “I can’t go back there. I just can’t.”

  “No, I won’t let them,” Emerald said, hugging her tight.

  “I’ll fight every person who wants to send you away if I have to.”

  The friends smiled at each other. Nothing could tear them apart.