Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
LILYFAIR
They escort us to the far end of the drawbridge at swordpoint.
Unarmed, undressed, and unbalanced by the death of my father, Franklin and I aren’t in the mood to fight the four guards at our backs.
Did they need to push him every step of the way?
As I trail my fingers over his upper shoulders, they smear the blood dripping from their vicious pokes.
Franklin didn’t look at me the whole way.
By asking him to stay a little longer, I’ve ruined his life…
Well, I ruined it by existing…but it’s worse now that he has no food, money, or place to live.
At least in the dungeon, he wasn’t in danger of execution, starving, or freezing to death this winter.
As soon as grief loosens its hold on my heart, I will get him to the castle’s portals to find a way back to the hucow sanctuary.
As much as I will miss him…breaking my heart all over again… I want him to be happy and safe.
My thoughts are shattered when Franklin is pushed from behind by a fist, and we go tumbling onto the planks of wood.
He takes the brunt of the fall, his arm crunching beneath me.
I bet it’s broken. Rolling from his embrace, I also lose my sheet.
My fevered skin pebbles when it hits the cold wooden bridge.
“People of Magmell,” Snapdragon declares, pausing for the proclamation trumpeters to blow their horns and the villagers to gather around us.
“King Marigold XVI has been tried and executed on the charges of treason, muddying the royal family line, defiling a human, abuse of his office, and conduct unbecoming of a king—”
“Tried by whom? There was no trial,” I shout as I bounce to my feet. Snapdragon sneers down his narrow nose at me as I stomp into his space.
“No need when you are the evidence of his scandalous affair,” he yells, more for the audience than my ears.
“Seelie people, just look at what he wanted you to adore. A human-Fae hybrid whore displaying her charms for all to see because she doesn’t contain the decency of a full Fae—let alone a Fae Princess. ”
“That’s rich considering the number of times you asked Father for my hand,” I shout just as loudly. My confidence wobbles when I meet the eyes of the villagers looking at me in horror. Many cover their mouths as they gape at me. Mothers cover the eyes of their children.
“Me? Why would a decorated captain of the army want a filthy half-breed who opens her legs for beasts? People of Magmell, the former princess invites you to look upon her—she doesn’t bother to cover herself—so look closely, and you will find her coated in the seed of her lover. Do you deny it, beast?”
All eyes swing to Franklin, who can’t speak up to defend himself or me.
My blood boils at Snapdragon’s bullying.
He exploited Franklin’s one weakness and picked at it to open the wound.
I could scream in rage! Instead of allowing Snapdragon to needle me into acting like the common whore he accuses me of being, I lift my chin and turn to address the crowd.
“People of Magmell—”
“Don’t listen to her!”
“Guards, seize our captain until this matter is settled!” Maple’s declaration silences the din of the crowd. They are used to being addressed by Maple and respect his authority as a scholarly elder.
The dungeon guards, led by Elm, surround Snapdragon, disarming him of his sword in seconds.
“According to the ancient texts, the Holder of the Coffers is the intermediary ruler when the king suddenly passes, there is no queen, and no suitable heirs. The Holder of the Coffers is me, and for my first proclamation, I order you: Someone please cover this lady, for we can all see that she’s of age,” Maple continues.
“But what of the evidence of her defiling?” Snapdragon screams as he yanks against the hold the guards have on his arms.
“Let them look for it. For I will never grow wings like when Fae women lose their virginity,” I reply, unable to look anyone in the eye, so I stare over their heads.
Franklin cradles his arm as he moves to stand between Snapdragon and me.
The heat at my back is a welcome reminder of his support and protection.
“For years, my father allowed me to hide under tables and in cabinets, and I never understood why. Franklin was taken from his homeland and imprisoned for no other reason than to keep my secret. Yes, I wear his seed before you today after a night of making love, because I intend to marry him as soon as I’m in the position where I belong.
However, I’ve worn hubull seed every day since I came of age.
Snapdragon isn’t lying when he calls me a hybrid—but I’m not a whore.
You see, the hubulls have been imprisoned to make a health cream which keeps me as youthful as any Fae my age…
when I’m half human. My father fell in love with a human.
His crime was allowing my mother to leave to keep the secret.
They loved each other, but they loved you and me more…
He knew you would never accept me as long as she was in Magmell, and his reign was needed to maintain the peace in Magmell.
There hasn’t been a war since he stepped on the throne…
but if Snapdragon succeeds him, the former captain of the army has a list of places to invade. ”
The crowd murmurs among themselves, whispering behind their hands. Their eyes are accusatory, but nobody reaches for a knife or sword. Did I say enough to win their support?
“Your Highness,” comes a whisper from my left. “My dress is humble, but I’d be honored if you wore it.” A red-haired Fae, taller than me but a few years my junior, holds a simple cotton dress in her outstretched arms.
“I’m forever grateful—oh, I don’t know your name.” I take the dress from her and throw it over my head. The sleeves are a mile too long, and the hem drags on the wood. However, the dress is worn buttery soft with years of love.
“I’m Blossom—”
“Oh yes, you’re Surmac’s daughter, wife of dungeon guard Cypress, right? I was so sorry to hear about the passing of your mother and in-laws. Franklin told me about your family’s struggles.”
“Oh yes, Your Highness,” she says, curtseying lower so her elbows brush the ground.
“I kept the doll you made for my stillborn sister…through it all—losing Mother in childbirth, eloping with Cypress, my father’s reaction…
you were my source of comfort when I needed you.
It was my feeling that even though the doll wore her name, it was meant for me. ”
“It was yours because you had the capacity to love it when death took them too soon. I’m glad I could be there,” I reply with a curtsey of my own.
“And me!” A little boy pushes his way to the front, waving a doll in front of his round face.
The doll has a mop of curly black hair and crooked green wings like he does.
“I lost my mother when she tried to give birth to my sister, and my doll, Charlie, was with me. We buried my sister’s doll with her, even though I thought Charlie needed a friend.
My sister had my mom, and Charlie had nobody. ”
“Charlie had you,” I reply, kneeling to be eye-to-eye with the youngster.
“Because of you,” says a tall Fae with the same hair and wings as the boy.
He wears a blacksmith’s apron like the doll, too.
“When we lost so many parents to the virus or to trying to have more children, you gave the children we had someone to love. The comfort you spread, Princess…well, hopefully, it extends to pardoning an impertinent boy who’s overcome with excitement to meet Magmell’s most beloved dollmaker. ”
My breath catches in my throat as the blacksmith steps out of my line of sight, revealing the villagers.
All the kids, and more than a few of the adults, clutch dolls to their chests.
I know I made many dolls over the years, but I never inquired as to what happened to them.
Tales of stillborn Fae buried with dolls reached my ears, but I never thought to ask about those who survived.
I guess I assumed each doll sat proudly on a nursery shelf to be abandoned for more sophisticated things as the child grew up.
“We are all grateful,” says a goblin, clutching a green doll in his claws.
“When I joined the village, nobody would look at my hideous face. No, it’s fine.
You Fae are gorgeous, it’s no secret. I had nobody to talk to…
until this little fella appeared in my shop.
The little gears and clockface on his belly reminded me of why I came—to make my clocks in peace.
Making art isn’t valued in the goblin horde, but your doll told me my art would be welcomed here…
because I was welcomed here. And eventually, I did win over the beautiful Fae by making beautiful clocks…
but I wouldn’t have stayed without your gift. ”
Making those dolls sustained me when loneliness threatened to eat me alive.
I never thought receiving one was just as powerful.
My intention was to welcome outsiders into the village, so they were never an outsider again…
I never thought of it in terms of building a community.
I wipe the tears from my eyes with my sleeve and sniffle until there’s a tug on my skirt.
“Do you need to cuddle my dolly, m’lady?
” asks a tiny Fae with blond pigtails. Her dirty hands with black crust under her fingernails hold a mud-coated doll up to me.
“Dolly is great at cuddling and gets in trouble for being dirty, too. She knows that when we are the dirtiest, we need the most cuddles.”
“Dolly is wise beyond her years,” I say, accepting the doll for a brief hug. The tiny Fae is missing her two front teeth when she smiles back at me.
“Will you give her wings when I get mine? Dandelion’s doll has wings because he’s a boy and was born with wings. When I fall in love and get my wings, will you give them to Dolly, too? I won’t want her to feel alone when I have wings, and she doesn’t?”
“Of course,” I reply automatically, but then I reconsider. “You know, not everyone grows wings. I have fallen in love—” I pause to grasp Franklin’s hand and watch the little Fae’s eyes grow as wide as saucers. “But I am part human, so I may never grow wings.”
“Dolly won’t be sad, because she will be just like you,” she answers, still giving Franklin the side-eye.
“No matter how different Dolly looks,” I say with a somber tone. “She will never be cast out of this village. We are all included here, I promise.”
“Can you do that?”
“My father could, but he’s gone. I’ll have to ask Maple, and between you and me,” I whisper loud enough for everyone to hear. “He’s kind of a sourpuss.”
The villagers giggle and whisper amongst themselves.
With one last hug, I whisper to the little Fae to return to her parents.
I use Franklin’s hand to rise to standing, but then release it to place my arm around his waist. The words I gave to Dolly were for him.
No matter where we go next, I will make sure he’s welcomed.
I’ll be his voice when he can’t speak, and I’ll listen when he chooses to share his words with me.
The strength of having him at my side while my village has my back gives me a strength I have never possessed before.
“So what will it be, Maple? Will I be beheaded in the town square, in front of all these little Fae clutching their dolls? Or will you allow Snapdragon to drag me through the muddy streets behind the royal carriage? Or will you banish us to the hucow sanctuary where we await Snapdragon’s army to slaughter the innocent herd? ”
Nobody dares to breathe. I doubt anyone on the royal court has ever spoken to Maple so plainly, especially outside of the castle.
Even Snapdragon has given up his struggles to fume with his hatred barely contained in his gaze.
I lock eyes with him and glare until Franklin’s kiss on my head breaks my concentration.
It’s written in my love’s eyes. I shouldn’t focus on the ugly stain on the world when I’m surrounded by love.
“No, Your Highness, now, we kneel,” Maple replies. He wobbles and grunts as he drops to his knees. He lays the royal scepter before him on the ground and pushes it toward me. I hold his gaze until his forehead touches the planks of wood.
Am I ready? Do I dare? My father’s reign was one of peace, love, and hierarchy.
This moment could define mine. What is my vision for future Magmell?
A vision pops into my head of a little Fae, a hubull, a goblin, and an orc, dancing around the maypole.
Yes, I want my reign to not only signify peace, but also unity.
The sea of bowed heads and fluttering wings count on someone to deliver this vision.
It has to be me, so I bend over to retrieve the scepter to clap it onto the ground like my father used to at the end of his declarations.
“All hail, Lilyfair, seventeenth regent of Magmell!” Elm leads the chorus of shouts, but not with his sword raised. In his arms are two squirming boys and a very tired wife.
“Long live Queen Lilyfair!”