Chapter 53
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSON
KINGDOM OF PRUSSIA
Honestly, I don’t know what I expected, coming to the Grimms’ house without any letters of introduction. But as I stand at their doorstep before the servant, asking me which brother I wish to speak to, I’m at a loss for words.
“My name is Hans Christian Anderson,” I say. “I wish to speak to the Grimm who has written the most stories.”
“Jacob is the most learned,” she offers.
“Perfect. Take me to him.”
My hands shake as she leads me to a thick wooden door that she knocks on. I clamp my hands together, reminding myself I’ve traveled too far and have too much to lose to mess up this visit.
“Come in,” a voice calls.
The servant leads me into a study. Bookshelves line two of the walls with paintings resting on top of the shelves, while portraits clutter another wall.
One massive desk stretches across the back of the room, teetering high with books and stacks of paper.
Two smaller desks extend at right angles from the larger one, forming a half-circle around a single chair.
In its center sits a man, enclosed on three sides by towering stacks of books.
“Jacob,” the lady says. “This man is here to see you.”
A man rises from his chair. The famous and renowned Jacob Grimm. His sharp, knowing features fix on me. In that moment, I understand why people find him intimidating. It’s like his gaze strips me bare, exposing my every flaw and weakness.
“Who are you?” he asks abruptly.
“Hans Christian Anderson,” I say, completely flustered. “I should’ve brought a letter of introduction, but I figured…to be honest, I hoped my name might be familiar to you.”
“I don’t remember your name, but I’m pleased to meet you.” He shakes my hand, and I feel privileged to have met this legend. “So tell me, what have you written?”
“Well, there’s “The Princess and the Pea” and “Thumbelina.” Perhaps you’ve heard of them?”
“Can’t say that I have. Tell me some of your other works. Surely, I’ve heard of them.”
But when I name off the titles, he shakes his head, and I wish suddenly to disappear on the spot.
“What must you think of me?” I ask. “I come to you as a total stranger, thinking you must know me. The thing is, I published a story in M?rchen of all nations, and I dedicated it to you. Perhaps you’ve read that?”
“No.” He grins, blue eyes softening. “I haven’t read even that, but it delights me to make your acquaintance. These fairy tales of yours sound intriguing.”
“Yes, and actually that’s why I came to see you. The thing is, your fairy tales and mine have commonalities. Even though I’m from the north, it’s as if we have a similar story source.”
He chuckles, rubbing his gray hair. “I highly doubt that.”
“True as that may be, I still had to seek you out. I was hoping you could help me. I’m having some…you could say issues.” I pause, swallowing hard. “It involves a certain woman who calls herself the Enchantress. Are you familiar with her?”
The blood drains from Jacob’s face, and he leans against his desk as if the air has been pushed out of him. “Yes,” he finally says. “That explains things.”
Relief hits me. I haven’t come all this way for no reason.
“I need advice. You see, I’ve fallen in love,” I grimace, “with a mermaid.”
Jacob chuckles, shaking his head. “Why don’t you sit down, Hans? Sounds like we need to have a talk.”