Chapter 54
JACOB
KINGDOM OF PRUSSIA
Many years later
The trip from the Hartz Mountains might have left me with a persistent cough, but it also awakens emotions inside of me I’ve tried to forget.
Night is falling, but I’m not ready to sleep.
I wave off my niece, Auguste, who’s wringing her hands at my health, and plod past Wilhelm’s office.
His desk remains untouched since his passing, reminding me of our days writing together, hunting down stories.
Even now, it feels like he might come striding through the door and plop into his chair, eager to get to work on our next task.
I’d complain about the clutter, but he’d say the mess looked as if it was settling on our desks like snow in the countryside.
Every part of my body aches like it’s remembering every battle wound.
I sit at my desk, staring at Wilhelm’s and my final project, Volume II of the dictionary.
Even though I promised at his deathbed to finish what we started, I’ve only gotten to the letter E.
My fingers skim the glass dome beside it.
Inside sits the spool of golden straw Rumpelstiltskin gave me as a parting gift before we finally wrote his story.
That old man drove me mad, but right now I miss his cranky charm.
The fragrant scent of the heliotrope flowers I picked this morning wafts through the room, distracting me.
Reminding once again of her.
I pick up the frame with Wilhelm’s picture. It’s one I sketched of him when we were young, fighting off witches, shapeshifters, and nixies, and I find myself daydreaming of those lost days.
“Uncle,” Auguste interrupts, coming in with a tray. “I’ve brought your coffee and streusel. Do you wish for me to light the fire for you?”
“Thank you, but it isn’t necessary.” I smile wearily at her as she sets down the food, kisses me softly on my forehead, and leaves.
The moment I’m alone, I open the frame and pull out the hidden drawing of Ella, tucked beneath the picture of Wilhelm.
The edges are worn and paper-thin, but the look in her eyes never changes.
Long ago, I memorized every contour of her face and the curl of each strand of hair.
It’s a bit of an obsession, and often I find myself daydreaming of moments we could’ve had together.
Picnicking, long walks, and hikes into the mountains, just like the one I finished earlier. There are at least two new florals I discovered on my last hike that I’d never seen before. Ella would’ve loved them.
I let out a soft sigh, unable to resist any longer. Reaching into the velvet pouch tucked away at the back of my desk, I draw out the glass slipper. Its golden surface catches the candlelight like it's whispering my secret.
“Are you truly still mooning over that bird-girl?” I don’t have to turn around to know that voice. The Enchantress. “It’s pathetic, if you ask me.”
“I definitely wasn’t asking.”
“Your brother found a nice human from this world, didn’t he? Why couldn’t you? From what I’ve gathered, you’re quite famous. People flocking to hear you speak, singing to you as you stand on your balcony, and yet all you can do is brood over lost love.”
I set down Ella’s portrait, annoyed. “What’s it this time? I finished your list. We agreed that once I finished the tales, you’d leave me alone.”
“Yes, well, there’s one more piece of unfortunate business I must complete.” She rolls her eyes, glitter sparkling on her lashes. “It has to do with a promise I made to your brother.”
“A promise?” I don’t like the sound of that. “What did he promise?”
“Remember that annoying time when you decided to die at Cinderella’s ball? Quite inconvenient.”
“I most certainly did not decide to die, and yes, it was rather inconvenient. Dying isn’t something one forgets.” I rise from my chair, coughing in agitation. “Now what have you done this time?”
“You don’t look so good.” She clucks her tongue, looking me up and down in pity.
Her fingers swipe across the broken hourglass resting on the bookshelf.
I will never forget the moment the last name on our list was crossed out and the curse was broken.
The hourglass fell to the ground in a rush of wind, and the blood seeped out, returning to our bodies.
We were free. At least, I thought we were until this moment.
“The way you look, you might drop dead any minute. We should hurry.”
“I’m not sure why you care about me. You never did before.”
“Don’t say such things. You were always my favorite, you know that, Jacob. So when Wilhelm asked me to join you with your one true love, Ella, I agreed. As long as Ella kept her end of the deal, the two of you completed your work for me, and you never found love again.”
“How can that be possible?” My heart begins pounding, hope daring to spark.
“Wilhelm never told you because that was a part of the deal. But Ella never married that Frog Prince. She chose to run her manor as her happy ending, but I have the power to alter the story. You’d have to enter the tale yourself and become one of my subjects in my realm. And then go find Ella and marry her.”
“How do I even know if she’s still alive?”
“Time works at a different pace than it does in this world. The choice is yours.”
I sag into the chair, picking up her glass slipper, cradling it in my hand. “Yes.” My words come out as a whisper, but there’s a resoluteness to them. A knowing that somehow I’d been waiting for this moment my entire life.
She snaps her fingers, and a book appears in her hand, snowflakes falling from its pages like confectionery sugar.
It’s my favorite tale. Cinderella. As she cracks open the spine, the smell of spring wafts into the dreary, cold room.
The sketch of a young woman standing by a tree feeding birds shivers on the page.
“She’s waiting for her prince to come. That shoe might help you find her.” The Enchantress studies me. “And since I am rather fond of you, how about I make you the prince in the tale. Would you like that?”
“I don’t care what I am as long as I can be with her.” The thought roots deep within me. She’s the only thing that has made my life complete. And God help me, I’d give up everything if it meant I could spend a day with her.
“Then it’s a good thing I like you, or I’d turn you into a pig or—”
“Don’t say frog.”
She laughs then, a thrilling, ice-shattering laugh. “Tell your ash girl I said hello.”
The world shifts as if everything flipped upside down. The room spins, ice and fire, wind and unbending storms. My body rips from my chair and stretches in ways I can’t understand.
And then darkness swallows the light. Silence suffocates the tornado.
Groaning, I blink. I’m lying on my back, staring up into swaying oaks. Birds chirp and the wind shifts, rustling the tree boughs. I roll to my side to find a chestnut mare munching on a patch of emerald-green grass.
“What’s going on?” I ask the Enchantress, climbing to my feet, searching for her.
She’s nowhere in sight. The horse nudges me.
Instinctively, I grab the reins and that’s when I notice my hands are smooth and wrinkle-free.
My clothes are different, too. Breeches and a smooth silk tunic like a noble would wear.
A red cloak drapes over my shoulders. A sword hangs at my belt, and my limbs don’t ache anymore.
There are even spurs on my boots, which causes a smile to crack on my lips. She remembered the spurs.
I look around, wondering if the Enchantress really sent me into her realm or if I’ve died and gone to Heaven.
Then I notice the pouch hanging from my belt. I pull at the binding, and a golden shoe tumbles into my palm. Its glass gleams in the sunlight like a promise.
Ella’s slipper.
My heart beats so wildly, the whole forest must hear it.
I mount the horse and pull on the reins, hoping I’m heading in the right direction.
As I round the bend, I ride up to an adorable manor.
Ivy climbs the stone walls in playful twists.
A peaked turret rules the home, and red roses spill over the garden gate like a trail of kisses.
A bird chirps at me from the garden wall, then flies through the arched gate.
Something tells me I won’t find the love of my life in the house.
Pushing the horse, I urge it to follow the bird, making my way through a garden. A woman with golden hair stands beneath a tree, tossing seeds to the ground.
As I draw up my horse, my voice traps inside of me. I don’t know what to say despite all the words I wrote in my lifetime. She turns to stare at me with those sky-blue eyes that haunt me in my dreams.
“Do I know you?” Terrifying hope fills her voice, but her brow wrinkles in confusion.
Still, I can’t speak, fearing my words might break the magic. Instead, I kneel before her, withdrawing the golden slipper from the pouch. She gasps, and I slip it on her foot.
“It fits,” I finally dare to say. “Ella, my love.”
She presses her hands to her mouth, tears streaming down her face. “Jacob. How is this possible?”
“My brother made a deal with the Enchantress. And this time, she had to fulfill her end of the bargain.” I stand and take her trembling hands in mine.
I press a kiss to her knuckles, slow and reverent.
“Living without you wasn’t living. But I’ve found you, and now that I have, I don’t want to ever leave. ”
Her breath shudders, her eyes lifting to mine. “Then let’s not ever say goodbye again.”
The words undo me. I pull her into my arms, holding her like she’s the only solid thing in my world. My mouth finds hers. The kiss starts soft, hesitant. But then it’s like the years and separation fall away, and she melts against me.
Our kiss deepens, the emotions of every lonely night, every aching hour without each other pouring into this moment. Her tears salt my lips. My palms frame her face. And we cling to each other like we’ll never let go.
This isn’t just a kiss. It’s a memory of what we lost and what we found. But it’s also the beginning of our fairy tale.
“I love you,” I tell her. “Madly, wildly, eternally.”
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