A Fairy Tale by Denalee Chapman
*Disclaimer: I do not believe in fairy tales. But every now and then, they’re just fun.
It was a glorious spring day. A smooth scent of jasmine floated out from the garden archways to welcome distinguished guests. In just a few minutes Melia and Ky would be wed.
Melia could hardly believe this moment was here. After the death of William she hadn’t dared hope to ever feel happiness or love again. They had been married only a few months when the ocean swallowed his ship and Melia was left a young widow, expecting a child. A child that would never know its father.
As the time for deliverance came, Melia was certain she would be joining William in the afterlife, so excruciating was her pain.
Shia, the midwife, and William’s sister spoke softly. “I see your baby’s head, Melia. The child will soon break free. The pain will leave. William’s child will be your comfort.” Then she wiped Melia’s brow again.
When the cry of a child broke through Melia’s own wails, she realized that she had survived. But the pain … it wouldn’t stop. Until a second child was delivered, protesting with louder complaints than the first. Two baby girls. Melia held one in each arm, wishing she could share this moment with her love.
“He will always be with you, Melia. He is in your children.” Shia’s loyalty to her brother was second only to her skill as a midwife.
Thanks to Shia, Melia’s children were safely delivered. They grew in love, not realizing they had suffered loss while still in the womb. Shia showered her nieces with love and attention until midwifery took her to a new village when the girls were just toddlers.
“Thank you, Shia. We will miss you as we miss William.” Melia held her sister-in-law as she whispered her good-bye.
Now, twelve years later, Melia’s daughters stood at the front of the crowd; Mae and Willie, with bouquets in their hands. The twins were joined by Ky’s daughter, Ellie. The trio was beautiful, and Melia couldn’t be more thrilled to gain a third daughter. Melia walked up the aisle, her eyes taking in the beauty of the countryside that provided the most beautiful backdrop which framed her family. When she got to the front, Melia winked at the girls then turned her attention to the handsome man, her husband to be. Ky, as dashing as Melia was beautiful, smiled and reached his hands out to her.
Cheers erupted as the couple kissed for the first time as husband and wife. True to Hembria tradition, the couple each grabbed their goblet of wine, faced the crowd, and raised their drinks in the air. The crowd stood as Melia and Ky drank to their future. Tears threatened escape from their numinous minister when he watched the couple link arms, then drink out of the other’s goblet. “Already sharing! A truer union there never was,” he whispered.
Melia’s heart swelled as she anticipated her future in an atmosphere of safety, love and joy. But it was not to be. Moments into the first dance, Ky collapsed in Melia’s arms. Medics were summoned, but it was too late.
Melia’s grief overtook her. Now, in a strange home and with an additional child to care for, Melia began to believe what the townspeople had been whispering about her for years: she was cursed.
***
Melia coped well enough; her latest husband having left her a small fortune. She was able to retain the house-help which meant she could focus on her family which had grown with the addition of Ellie. For the most part, the help was fantastic. The entire household grieved together, some silently, others sniffling as they fulfilled their duties.
“Madam, Cora has not yet returned. Shall we hire a new scullery maid?”
“Is it necessary, Bard? We have two, and I’ve not complained of our meals.” Bard was the only house-help Melia knew. She relied on his opinion as much as she had Ky’s.
“Yes, madam. They have more than they can handle. I thought Cora had left to mourn alone, but it’s been a fortnight and we’ve heard nothing.”
“Very well, Bard. I trust your judgment. Hire whom you will.”
The new scullery maid fit in well, according to Bard, and the entire household ran smoothly. Meals were delicious, the silver was always polished, doors were answered, beds turned down, and Melia had no complaints. No complaints, except her distance from Ellie.
Ellie was an angry girl. But Melia couldn’t blame her. Hadn’t she, herself, been angry each time she’d lost a love? At least I had my parents when I was young, Melia thought. The twins were encouraged to include Ellie in everything. Virtually the same age, all three girls were smart and exceptionally beautiful. And perhaps Ellie had been kind, like her stepsisters … before … But no matter, Melia would never give up on Ellie. And neither would the twins.
Mae was the gentle one. Soft-spoken and kind, Mae always made sure Ellie was included. Mae’s golden curls matched her mother’s while Willie’s warm brown hair came from her father. I named them right, Melia thought as she looked at their faces. Willie resembled her father in temperament as well. Always seeking adventure, she’d have to plead with Ellie and Mae to join her in some not-so-safe fun.
One day Willie had the grand idea to climb up the chimney from inside the fireplace.
“It’s filled with sooty cinders, Wil, would you have us all be grimy?” Ellie was a voice of reason and not afraid to speak out. Mae nodded, clearly siding with her step-sister.
“It will be fun. Besides, we’ll be bathing tonight anyway. Please?”
Willie pressured the girls often, but rarely did she ask “please.” So Ellie and Mae agreed.
The girls surveyed the fireplace, stepped in one at a time and peeked up the chimney hole. “I suppose it’s doable,” Ellie said.
“Well, of course it is! Who’s first?” Willie was adventurous, but she knew she’d have to let the others go first so they’d agree to the next adventure.
Ellie moved forward and the other two gave her a boost. There were protruding bricks and rocks that offered some fine hand and footholds for Ellie.
“Call down when you reach the top and we’ll follow!”
Ellie was only a few reaches up when Melia walked into the room.
“Whatever are you doing? Girls! Come out at once.”
Mae and Willie stepped out of the fireplace, smudges on their feet. But when Ellie got down and stepped out of the fireplace, she was covered in soot.
“Oh dear,” Melia said as she brushed Ellie’s clothing. “Cinders, Ellie. Cinders and soot. Baths early for all of you. Now scoot.”
Sometimes Ellie was just one of the girls, but often when she’d lose her temper, Ellie would storm out of the room screaming, “It should have been you, not him! It should have been you!” It used to hurt Melia to hear that. For nigh to a year, when Ellie would yell, Melia would follow her, hold Ellie in her arms and say, “No, dear. It shouldn’t have been either of us.” Ellie would usually fall asleep in Melia’s arms, crying and mumbling, “It should have been you … it should have been you …”
On Melia’s one year wedding anniversary, the anniversary of her husband’s death, she had Gair saddle up a horse.
“May I accompany you, Madam? It might not be safe to be alone.”
“Oh, fish-n-toads, Gair. I’ve ridden alone all my life. I’ll be back before the noon meal.”
As Melia rode to the far hill, she dreamt of the year they might have had together. Her mind took her to quiet nights, once the girls would be slumbering, when Ky might have told her all about his day. She thought of the two of them tucking the girls in together at night; and she tried to feel his breath on her neck, to smell his musty scent, to hear his gentle voice.
“Oh, Ky! Why? Why are you gone? Ky, I’m perplexed about Ellie. I do love her so, but her heart is shut to me.”
Melia was talking out loud now, tears spilling as fast as her words. But in an instant, everything halted. Melia pulled on the reins, her tears turned off, and she silenced her voice. Someone was at Ky’s grave. Melia dismounted and patted her horse on his nose.
“Stay still, Drell. Wait for me here. I’ll be back soon,” she whispered to the horse.
Melia quietly walked through the trees toward the clearing at the top of the hill. She rested against the leaning pine as she struggled to hear beyond the young girl’s sobs. Ellie was at her father’s grave.
“Daddy, oh Daddy. Why did you leave me? I never wanted a mama. I only wanted you. Why couldn’t you have known? Why did you leave Daddy? It should have been her, not you. Oh Daddy!”
Melia slowly worked her way back to Drell, climbed up onto his back, and dejectedly trotted home. She was numb. Why does Ellie want me dead? Why does she think either of us had to die? Why does she hate me so? Melia couldn’t even think about her own loss. She could only hear Ellie’s words, “It should have been her, not you …”
***
A few years passed in relative peace. The three girls had almost all they could have hoped for: education, food aplenty, wardrobes of the latest fashions, and social events. But they all felt the obvious emptiness of no doting father. Melia felt that hole too, though she kept herself occupied with matters of the home and society. She sat in on the girls’ lessons, when occasion would permit, accompanied her daughters on outings, and filled the position of a lady in the community.
No longer was it Ellie’s angst at Melia surviving and her father being dead; nor was it the whispers of her “curse” that bothered Melia. None of that hurt as much as her personal ache at having lost, then lost again. And as the years ticked by, Ellie was becoming increasingly unmanageable. In public Ellie presented well. Better than well. She was cordial, refined, and pleasant. But often, at home, it was as if Ellie was punishing Melia. As if Melia were to be blamed for Ky’s death. The more Melia showered love on Ellie, the harsher Ellie’s treatment of Melia and the twins became.
Perhaps, thought Melia, Ellie needs a man to love. Quite possibly, my love will only continue to pain her. Wouldn’t it be perfect if the prince and Ellie fell in love? Maybe then Ellie could forgive me. Maybe then we could be a family.
It might be that Melia had a premonition; or maybe it was serendipity. But that very night, an invitation was delivered to their door.
By order of the King: All eligible maidens are invited to attend the Eventide Ball.
Four and twenty nights hence, each attendee will be presented before the Royal Court.
Ah! This is perfect, Melia thought. I’ll bring the dressmaker in tomorrow to fit us all for new gowns. What a lovely night it will be. I’ll be sure that Ellie is the most stunning of all.
The women of the house were, indeed, stunning. Mae was clothed in azure blue satin with lace trim. Dainty pearls accentuated her perfect neck. Willie’s purple dress flowed gracefully over her petite frame, the high neckline drawing one’s eyes up to her bow-shaped lips and violet eyes. Melia’s dress was no less remarkable. A deep forest green chiffon covered the queenly silk lining, creating a sense of movement even while Melia stood still. No doubt the dressmaker used Melia’s penetrating eyes as inspiration for the dyed chiffon. But the most stunning of all was Ellie. Her silver gown shimmered as the meticulously sewed on gems caught light. Ellie’s hair was drawn up to mimic a crown with jewels placed in the folds of her hair. The twins and Melia gasped when Ellie stepped out from behind the dressing wall.
“Oh, Ellie! You are the most beautiful, the most royal-looking person I’ve ever seen!”
“You will catch his eye when you step inside, Ellie. You’ll catch everyone’s eye.”
The twins held back no praise. Melia just smiled as tears turned her forest eyes to shimmer like the chiffon of her dress. She held out her arms, and for the first time since her father’s death, Ellie willingly embraced her step-mother.
“It shouldn’t have been you, either, mother. It should have been you or father. I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.”
“There, there, child. Stop the tears before they run on your face. This is your night, dear. When we’re presented to the court, all eyes will be on you.”
All eyes were on Ellie at the court presentation. Well, most eyes were on Ellie.
“Presenting: Lady Melia and her daughters, Mae, Willie and Ellie.” The four women stepped off the red carpet and up to the elevated, gold-plated stage. Seated on thrones before them were King Trist and Prince Race. The queen’s throne was glaringly empty. Queen Isla had died years ago, but the King had no desire to remarry. At least, that’s what surrounding kingdoms claimed. Ladies from all the world had been entertained in the king’s court, only to go home without a proposal, or even a desire to return. No, the king hadn’t even considered love for himself. He would settle to see his son happily united one day.
The women curtsied deeply, heads bowed and eyes on their feet. Only when the King spoke did they arise.
“Lady Melia, your daughters are lovely.”
“Thank you, your highness.”
“You and your husband must be very proud. Why, pray tell, did he not accompany you tonight?”
“My husband, your highness, has been dead these many years. But yes, he would be proud.”
“Begging your pardon, madam,” the prince said, “may I dance with your daughters?”
This wasn’t the first request he’d made during the presentations, but it still excited all of the girls. The court scribe handed each of the girls a golden scepter and invited them to step down and make room for the next introduction.
“He was only being polite, Ellie,” said Willie. “He may think Mae and me pretty, but he is clearly smitten with you.”
“Willie is right. It wouldn’t have been very royal of him to only ask for a dance with you. I’ll enjoy the moment, though, even knowing it’s a pity dance,” Mae said.
“We’ll all enjoy tonight, girls. Look! The spread on that table is magnificent. I’m not sure I can identify each item, but I’m anxious to taste it anyway,” Melia said.
All four worked their way toward the banquet table. Just as Melia reached for a tart, she felt pressure on her elbow. Melia turned to see a uniformed man behind her.
“Pardon me, madam, the King requests your presence.”
Melia leaned over to Ellie and whispered. “If he asks my permission for you to join the royal family, how would you have me respond?”
Ellie blushed and nodded, then turned to Willie and Mae. The three girls held hands and started giggling.
“You haven’t yet danced, and still, he desires you!”
“It could be one of you,” Ellie said, her eyes betraying her real feelings.
“Oh, silly girl. Let’s not pretend. He fancies you. We all could tell.”
“See,” Willie gestured toward the prince, “he’s looking at you even now, while bowing to another.” And so he was. All three girls watched the prince, as he watched Ellie.
“Promise us, Ellie, when you’re the princess, you’ll have a place for us in your court.”
“Of course I will. And mother too. If only she will forgive me. I have been dreadful.”
Mae was first to dance with the prince, and though he was polite, even making conversation, she could tell his focus was elsewhere. When Willie danced with the prince, she didn’t allow for a moment of pretend.
“I can tell your heart is with our sister, Ellie. Pardon my bluntness, but why would you continue to dance with others when you’d rather be with her?”
The prince cleared his throat, stopped dancing, and pulled away. Before leaving, he reached for her hand, bowed, and said, “If only our court advisors were as wise as you.” Ellie and the prince spent the rest of the night on the dance floor together.
When their mother didn’t return, Willie and Mae became concerned. Together they left the ballroom, entering the library, the dining quarters, even the billiard room. But no mother.
“Excuse me, madams.”
“Sir?”
“If you’re searching for your mother, may I suggest you stand on the balcony through these doors, and look out on the courtyard,” the man said as he opened the double doors.
The girls stepped out into the breezy summer air and gasped. Below, in the royal gazebo, their mother was dancing with the king.
The next morning, not even the house-help could contain their excitement. At breakfast both Melia and Ellie had no appetite.
“I don’t need to eat, I’m in love!” Ellie couldn’t keep it in even for a moment.
“Ellie, you must eat, dear. And so must I.”
“Mother, are you in love too?”
“It’s too soon to tell, girls. Love doesn’t happen at a ball. But I will tell you this, we have been invited to spend the day in the royal garden. All of us. Shall we make ourselves eat now, then ready ourselves to go?”
That day, and every day for the next several months, Ellie and the prince grew beyond their initial attraction and became friends. Melia and the king talked about love and loss and coping. One morning before leaving for their day at the royal court, Bard interrupted the ladies during breakfast.
“Madam, may I have a word?”
“Certainly Bard,” Melia said as she stood and walked into the adjoining room.
“There is talk, madam, among those of us who serve in homes and in the royal court. Master Ky’s death was not an accident, madam. But he was not the intended victim. It was you.”
It should have been you! Not him! It should have been you! Ellie’s oft repeated words echoed in Melia’s mind. Oh no, Ellie. Not you. What did you do Ellie, what did you do?
“Madam? Madam, please. I have more to tell you.”
Bard must have been talking, but Melia couldn’t focus. Her heart was breaking. But she turned her face back to Bard and invited him to continue.
“The talk is, madam, that it will happen again. On your wedding day. Are you to marry the king?”
“Thank you, Bard,” Melia said, and she took off running to her room. Cursed. I am cursed. What will I do? Melia determined to let it play out. She would catch Ellie and prevent her own death … or that of the king, if Ellie messed up again.
That very week, both Melia and Ellie promised their eternal love to royalty. Preparations were made for a double wedding. Melia dared not expose Ellie without evidence. But she couldn’t die either. She would not leave her daughters motherless.
The day of the wedding Ellie begged to be excused from the dressing room. “I’m not feeling well, please, may I be alone for a few minutes? I just need to get some air.”
Ellie walked out of the room, and Melia turned to follow.
“She wishes to be alone, madam,” said a dressing maid.
“I’m her mother. I’ll care for her.”
Melia silently followed Ellie, watching her peek around corners before turning and stopping to listen for sounds. When Ellie slipped into the kitchen, Melia knew how she would do it. She’ll poison me. It must have been in my goblet. Ky and I drank the others’ wine. She poisoned my wine and killed her own father. Melia would confront Ellie and let the rest play out. Just as Melia was opening the door, she heard Ellie’s forced whisper.
“Cora! You. How could you? How could you kill him, Cora? I have no father. My stepmother lost her husband!” Ellie’s whisper grew into a growl.
Cora? Melia wondered. Cora … the scullery maid who left a vacancy in the kitchen the day Ky was killed. I’ve never met Cora, but why would she kill Ky? Jealousy?
Melia flung the door open and stared at the two women.
“Shia? Is that you, Shia?” Melia’s hands covered her heart. She hadn’t seen her sister-in-law since midwifery took her away. “Shia, what are you doing here?”
Shia’s body was still, but her head turned away from Melia and back to Ellie.
“This is Cora, mother. She poisoned your wine, but Father drank it. Why Cora? Why?”
Ellie was crying now. Melia’s hands flew to cover her mouth.
“Yes, Melia. It was me. How could you move on? Did William mean so little to you that you would marry the first handsome man to come around? And now the king? Is it money you’re after? Did you never care for my brother?”
“What?” Ellie was looking between the two.
“Shia. Oh, Shia. No! I mourned, I grieved, I still grieve. I miss William every day. And Ky. I thought I could never love, never be happy again. And then the kindest, most gentle man entered my life. I loved William, Shia. But he left. And then I loved Ky. But you took him too. Now I love Trist, and you will not destroy that too.”
Cora dropped the vial of poison and grabbed a knife. She swung wildly, forcing Ellie to move. Melia screamed as she grabbed a frying pan to ward off the knife blows. Within minutes Cora was tackled by other scullery maids, the knife kicked out of her hand.
Melia and Ellie were escorted back to the dressing room, neither speaking to the other. Shocked into silence, the two were dressed in their wedding gowns, jewels placed around their necks, and their hair coiffed.
At last, Melia found her voice.
“Ellie, dear. I must apologize. But first, how did you know? Why did you go to the kitchen?”
“I will tell you mother, but first, why did you follow me?”
The two shared with each other, alternately crying and laughing, finally finding and embracing the truth that Melia had been trying to teach Ellie and Mae and Willie for years.
“We can’t control what happens to us, dear. We can control only how we react to it.”
The double wedding was like no other. Well, maybe a little like one other.
As Melia and Ellie walked up the aisle toward the minister and their future husbands, standing at the front, each holding a bouquet, were two beautiful girls. Melia looked at her daughters and winked, then turned to her future husband. He reached his hands and drew Melia to him just as Prince Race drew in Ellie. The two couples were wed, and when they kissed each other for the first time as King and Queen, Prince and Princess, the crowd roared. And for the first time in Hembria history, there were no wine glasses lifted to toast their future together, and no one drank.
I am Yellow 