Dreamer of Briarfell: A Retelling of Sleeping Beauty (Fairytales of Folkshore Book 7)

by Lucy Tempest

  But as our lips touched, I knew that stories, like those told about Robin Hood, were only a mere fraction of the truth.

  No songs or ballads could do this moment, this love and devotion, this happiness, justice.

  Not that they wouldn’t try. I would. I had a lifetime now, thanks to my noblest of men, to try.

  We parted, stared at each other, and smiled so widely, it hurt.

  Then we were laughing, and laughing. Free, alive, and with a whole life full of adventures ahead of us.

  At one point, we left Briarfell behind, with me steering Amabel, and Robin giving me directions in my first horseback ride throughout the lands of my kingdom.

  We rode towards the sun, following its trek across the sky, heading into our future together.

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  From the wings of the Eglantine opera house, I could see rows upon rows of guests from all over the kingdom and beyond. They were here to attend the first showing of The Verdant Vigilante, high society’s first foray into musical theater.

  Halfway between a play and an operetta, it was a rushed job that I would perfect later. Tonight was a test to gauge responses to my efforts.

  All the proceeds from this initial run would go to a charity Robin and I had founded, to help the wounded, widows, and orphans of war. If this experiment was successful, every idea I’d realize would continue as such.

  My first go at the stage had begun with guest performances in established operas, to live out my dream of performing. It had proved a great draw for the nobility who wanted to see the princess sing, and ticket sales had risen to unprecedented levels. The sizable chunk I was owed had gone to the families my uncle had wronged. Safe to say, he’d found this offensive, and was not in attendance tonight.

  The rest of my family though, was in the top box. They sat with Leander, Bonnie, Lord Gestum, and his wife Jessamine, who had their five-month-old son in her lap, named after Robin for his catalytic role in their previously-thought-impossible marriage.

  “Are you going to watch the whole show from the wings?”

  I turned, found Robin with his leaf-embellished green-and-gold coat over his arm, and glasses of sparkling cider in his hands. His tie was loosened and his hair had no semblance of the tidiness I had wrangled it into earlier.

  “You couldn’t go one hour looking presentable?”

  “Your family and their friends won’t form a higher opinion of me, so who’s there to impress?”

  “Me,” I said in mock disapproval.

  He handed me my glass as he brushed his nose against mine. “Liar. You like me like this.”

  I chuckled an agreement, unable not to brush a kiss on his lips. “You could still make the effort. This is my big night.”

  “Your real big night will be when all the props are finished and you have your ideal cast singing.”

  “That won’t be before next mid-winter. But it will give me time to make it a grand occasion, with all the winter decor. Not to mention the expanded audience of all the Northland vacationers fleeing their frozen homeland.”

  “Just look at you,” he said proudly. “You would have been wasted sitting in some obnoxious, overgrown brat’s castle far away. But here you are, putting on shows, and finessing money out of rich people, more efficiently than I ever managed, and putting it into the hands of the poor.”

  I twisted my lips at him. “You make it sound like I’m swindling them. With what they’re getting for their money, it’s an exchange, not a robbery.”

  He smiled over his glass, eyes glimmering with that humor I’d never get enough of. “It’s the thought that counts.”

  “It does. But you’ll realize the wealthy will willingly pay more than you could ever steal, if they think they’re getting something coveted by their peers. It’s all a competition to them, just like my mother still mourning our not marrying another king’s offspring, despite her dissatisfaction with her own regal match.”

  Robin snorted into his drink. “Poor Queen Zomoroda, you deprived her of boasting to the ladies at court with your unimpressive choices.”

  I poked him lovingly. “Bonnie and you are not only impressive, you’re heroes! And she and all those courtiers won’t forget it, because I will write as many stage productions as I can, not just about you, but everyone like you.”

  “Changing popular opinion through entertainment—it has been known to happen.” He looked up to the top box and waved at my family. “It’s already changed me from pest to folk hero.”

  I waved, too, receiving enthusiastic and supportive gestures from Leander, Esmeralda, and Florian.

  Mother’s last hope for royal marriages, our younger siblings had just become betrothed at the ripe age of twelve and ten, to the Armorican heir and princess, fourteen and eight. Their betrothed were in the box across from my family’s with their father, King Guillaume, and their ambassador.

  Though Esme didn’t seem thrilled with her match, and I could see another rebellion coming Mother’s way, she and Florian were delighted with Robin. Leander was ecstatic, for my safety and happiness, and for having one of his dearest friends as his future brother-in-law. But the smugness filling him to the brim came from the doubled amount of spite dropped in our mother’s snobbish lap with our future morganatic marriages.

  But my own match mortified her far more, since she’d believed I’d marry a king my whole life. Now, instead of princes and princesses, my children would be lords and ladies, children of the newly made Duke of Sherwood, and they would do whatever they wanted with their lives.

  As for Robin, Father had recognized his heroics in saving Arbore’s princess by striking all charges against him from the record, raising him from earl to duke, and restoring to him his ancestral lands—what he now ran with his ears on full display. Robin was also studying under the current Minister of Internal Affairs. He’d one day take over and reform laws for the betterment of our people.

  We were finding our purposes in life, and helping each other achieve them like I’d dreamed.

  Robin set his hand on my lower back. “Time to join your guests, and watch the show.”

  I started to protest, my need to supervise overwhelming me, but he herded me away from the stage and towards our seats.

  As I passed by the audience, I noticed Bonnie’s father, Seamus Fairborn with his new wife Ivy, and stepson, Oliver, sitting beside Will, Jon, and my fairy godmothers. But I forgot them and all of existence once the orchestra launched into the first melody and the curtains parted.

  All my being hung on every sound and movement as the acts progressed. I mouthed every word of the lines I’d written, and hummed every note of the musical numbers I’d composed, excitement and anxiety clashing within me. Robin let me mangle his hands in my spastic grip as I bated my breath for the audience’s reactions to this new medium, and my work.

  They burst into laughter at the lines Robin had cherry-picked from his experiences, and clapped hard and sometimes cheered at the end of every act. When the show ended, a standing ovation was given to the cast and orchestra, and I melted back into a puddle of relief.

  “Get up!” Robin urged.

  Flushing with delight and self-consciousness, I stood and bowed, hand over a hammering heart full with enough pride and gratitude to burst as the applause stormed louder.

  Afterwards, Robin swept me to the theater door, where we remained until the last group exited, thanking everyone for attending and shaking their hands. I ignored any wary or disapproving looks shot Robin’s way. He wiggled his pointy ears at those who stared too long.

  Leander ambushed us from behind, in the throes of a fit of laughter. “I can’t believe you got all the people Robin Hood targeted cheering for him.”

  “You’re next.” Bonnie appeared by his side. “I’ve just finished my book on the Beast of Rosemead, and Fairuza will adapt it for the stage.”

  Leander stopped laughing. “I thought you were joking about that.”

  “Don’
t look so betrayed,” I teased. “It’ll be fun.”

  “And full of embellishments,” Bonnie assured him. “I won’t have anyone connecting the dots.”

  Leander worked his jaw. “You better not. This Crown Prince job is hard enough without immortalizing the rumors about my beastly period. And don’t make my character sing any embarrassing songs.”

  Robin patted him on the chest. “Don’t worry, wolf-man, your numbers will only be howls at a bulbous chandelier that looks like the moon.”

  Leander shoved Robin’s head, making him cackle. “That’s it. No songs at all. Make it a regular play.”

  I shrugged, knowing I’d get around him later. “Less work for me.”

  As the two men continued teasing each other, I saw Agnë and Jon swinging their clasped hands like children. Fondness at their sweet displays rose along with regret, since I wouldn’t be seeing them much after this. Agnë was returning to Winter and taking Jon with her.

  Meira was sticking around, claiming that I “needed a friend.” Which I did, and was grateful for, but I knew a good part of the reason she was staying was to explore her relationship with Will.

  “What about your story?” Bonnie asked me.

  “Since it has all of you, I think it deserves a full-scale opera, or a ballet,” I said. “But I have so many ideas besides that, and it’s hard to pick what to produce next.”

  Robin pulled me close and kissed my forehead. “Good thing you have the rest of a long life to see them all through.”

  I rested against him, at ease in his arms. “I do. I really do.”

  We all grinned at each other with that still disbelieving delight that our curses were broken, and we were together, safe, and happy.

  Our conversation was interrupted when my family, King Guillaume, and his entourage arrived, and we began to pile out of the theater.

  Robin, Will, Leander, and Jon held the lead, debating who could jump down the longest flight of stairs, while Clancy chided them for being childish. They seemed to revert to their boyhood when they were together.

  I found myself again longing to have met Robin when Leander had. It could have saved us so much trouble.

  But it probably wouldn’t have. No. I’d met him when I’d most needed him. I couldn’t think of a more perfect time or way we could have met.

  Bonnie, Jessamine, and my godmothers walked with me, which pleased me as much as the responses my work had received tonight. I’d always wanted true companions, not sycophants or servants paid to tolerate me.

  Now I had these ladies, who understood me and desired my company for no other reason but that they enjoyed it. Not to mention they enjoyed discussing our overlapping experiences no matter how repetitive it got.

  As we descended the final flight of stairs to our carriages, the ladies discovered a previously untouched topic—Keenan, who would make an appearance in a future work of mine.

  “I can’t believe that lunatic is your cousin,” Meira grumbled to Bonnie.

  “The mildly sadistic Autumn fairy who rides a reindeer is indeed my paternal cousin.” Bonnie laughed. “Why? What prank did he pull on you?”

  “Prank?” Meira squeaked. “He almost got us eaten by ghouls!”

  “And almost got Jon killed by that headless horseman,” Agnë added.

  I found myself in the strange position of having to defend Keenan. “That really wasn’t his fault. He did try to warn Jon.”

  As Agnë gave me an uncharacteristic sullen look, Bonnie rushed to ask her, “You’re from Winter, right? I lost a friend there and Keenan went after her, but I haven’t heard anything from him since.”

  “If you mean Ornella, she’s fine.” Agnë said.

  “More than fine,” Meira grumbled. “She got the Winter King before we could get to him. Centuries he spends cursed and alone, and the second we have use for him, some dryad snaps him up.”

  “Dryad?” Bonnie and Jessamine exclaimed in unison.

  Meira raised her hands. “That’s for your crazy cousin to tell you during your next reunion.”

  “He better.” Bonnie turned to me, cornflower-blue eyes brimming with excitement. “What did you think about my book? What medium would best fit a story set in Faerie?”

  “One that hasn’t been invented yet,” said a new voice.

  All three fairies froze.

  But it was Bonnie who spun hard on her heel. “You!”

  I turned, too, and found a fairy with curly red hair piled high on her head. She was wearing a glittering, light-green gown, pink, cat-eyed spectacles, and a dreamy smile. From the others’ reactions, and a gut instinct, there was no mistaking who she was.

  “Come back to curse me again?” I gritted.

  “Quite the opposite.” The Spring Queen’s smile turned blithe. “I’ve come to congratulate you.”

  “Shouldn’t Leander and me surviving to adulthood dismay you, Your Majesty?”

  “As I already told Bonnibel and your brother, cursing you brought me no joy. Your parents forced my hand,” she said, unbothered by my bitterness. “If I wanted mere vengeance I would have turned you into beetles and stomped on you. Instead, I cursed you to teach Florent and Zomoroda lessons in honoring promises and respecting other monarchs, not to mention to prevent a war. And I gave you the means to free yourselves.”

  Bonnie crossed her arms. “Knowing that isn’t going to change how we feel about what you did, or what we went through to get here, Etheline.”

  I was taken aback at Bonnie calling her by her name before remembering she’d known her most of her life. The Spring Queen had masqueraded as a tavern owner in Bonnie’s little town in Ericura to keep an eye on her. Ada had even once worked for her.

  Bonnie uncrossed her arms with a sigh. “But, I will admit that without you, neither of us would have met our future husbands.”

  That was true. Her curses had ended with us happy, in a way we would have never been otherwise.

  “Maybe you should consider me your fairy godmother.” Etheline turned to Jessamine, reaching for her son, her seafoam-green eyes emanating an eerie glow. “Here, let me bless your child with a gift.”

  “I don’t think so!” Clutching baby Robin to her chest, Jessamine ran down to where the men were blissfully unaware of our visitor.

  Etheline tutted. “I wouldn’t have done anything as bad as what your actual godmothers did for you, Princess. Which was worse than nothing.”

  “They did all they could to fix what you did,” I defended Meira and Agnë heatedly. “Which was more the work of a malevolent matchmaker than a fairy godmother.”

  “Magnificent matchmaker,” Agnë corrected, all but bowing and scraping. “You indirectly chose such wonderful spouses for these siblings, Your Majesty.”

  “Still terrified of confrontation, aren’t you, Agnessa?” Etheline huffed, then pursed her lips at Meira. “As for you, Meropë, meddlesome hothead that you are, you altered my curse. You think you can just mess with my magic?”

  Meira’s only response was a fearful squeak.

  I put myself between them, jabbing my finger at Etheline angrily. “It was her right as my godmother to look out for me, and altering it was the only way she could do so. It’s largely on account of that, and all of Angë’s and Meira’s other efforts on my behalf, that I’m alive today. Whatever offense you take at that is your problem, not theirs.”

  Bonnie tugged at my sleeve. “Fay, best not to do what your mother did.”

  “She’s not,” Etheline said, surprising us both. “Her mother was a foolish, prejudiced brat, who never admitted her family’s or her own wrongdoing, and she still is. And her father let that catastrophe he’s been saddled with get away with anything just to avoid the headache of confronting her. He was also an oath-breaker. Both upset me for their own purposes. Fairuza, on the other hand, is displaying something I didn’t think her capable of.”

  I squared my shoulders as I met her gaze head on. “What’s that?”

  “Putting someone else’s feeli
ngs and safety before your own, even if it’s a fairy who lied to you for years. That’s the last thing to draw my ire.” Etheline set a hand on my shoulder as she circled me, inspecting me. “That’s all I needed to see for myself, that you have become someone worth the love of the noblest of men, as he is worth a passionate, loyal, responsible princess. I am pleased.”

  Tension melted from my bones, softening my posture and my feelings towards this woman. Who would have thought it possible?

  But after everything I’d been through, I knew for a fact, anything was.

  The men’s voices called from below for Bonnie, Meira, and Agnë, with Jon complaining the loudest about being late for dinner.

  “You better run, they sound famished.” Etheline chuckled, winking at Agnë. “The Fates know how much food it takes to fuel your giant.”

  Choking on embarrassment, Agnë didn’t waste a second getting away from Etheline, curtseying, then bolting down, with Meira flying behind her.

  Bonnie still hovered at the top of the stairs. “Any news on my cousin and Ornella? Is it true she’s with the Winter King?”

  Etheline smiled widely. “Ornella freed Yulian from the dismal fate your mother subjected him to. And they dealt poetic justice to the evil that lurked in their lives. As for Keenan, he’ll no doubt return with interesting tales for you to chronicle soon.”

  Bonnie frowned. “Is this all you’re telling me?”

  “Yes. I’m not here to catch up, but to witness the last of my loose ends tying themselves at last.”

  Bonnie nodded cautiously. “Good to know all is right in the world, then.”

  Etheline let out a chilling laugh. “Far from it. The Folkshore is in for an interesting shake-up. In fact, I’ll steer clear of your world for a while. I’d hate to be involved in the conflicts of the gods and the Underworld.”

  This reminded me of Princess Ariane and my last-minute rescue from the Horned God. But it was the conversation I’d eavesdropped on between him and the three-headed goddess that resonated with her words. Something about an insidious disease that could bring both our world and the divine realm toppling down.