Fairy Tale: Winter's Bite

Chapter 23: Unraveled (Part 3)

It took Cassie a while to get started, but he was patient and had faith she'd follow through. "When I was born wingless. . ." she began, pausing for effect. "My mother had no use for me whatsoever. I received an education apt for a princess, but mostly out of her sight or hearing and attributable to the sympathetic staff and my own initiative. My only friend was a boy about my age, Phoenix, the son of a groundskeeper. We ran and played together in many dark, mysterious places once I learned how to escape lock and key, my mother never the wiser, or so I believed.

"Still, as I grew, my mother took into account the slim chance I could be of some value to her. An arranged marriage with a foreign Royal would have had its political and monetary advantages, freeing her from the burden of my existence as well. The day I turned sixteen, she barged into my room before I was even out of bed, grabbed my jaw, and eyed my features. 'It is time,' she said. She'd chosen a husband for me: Lord Vulpecula, a fairy from Imperio del Fuego, a Spanish empire too powerful for her acquisition. Thus, they were weak allies at best. It was among my reasons to protest. And yet, she told me that if I didn't obey, she would make sure that Phoenix burned and would never rise from the ashes. I was stunned. I had no idea she even knew I had a friend."

Cassie stopped and shrugged, took a gulp and then continued: "I'd lived my whole life in the shelter of the palace, so no one of importance beyond her inner circle knew that I was not of Royal constitution. My mother had deceived the Spanish fairy lord about my deformity. When the day of the wedding arrived, fake wings were pinned to the lace beneath my dress. Bejeweled for the occasion, the wings were heavy and the lace tore, stitch by stitch, with every step I took toward the horrified groom. I kept walking despite the gasps and whispers. I was naïve enough to believe Vulpecula might marry me anyway. I wanted to be as far from there as possible by any means. So I lifted my chin and forced a smile. But he wasn't smiling back."

"I guess that explains your aversion to weddings," Chris said when she paused. She had mentioned this to Joe when he uncharacteristically brought up the march down the aisle as if it were a destination he might someday consider, assuming she was the one to join him there.

"Yes," she replied simply. "Shall I continue?"

"Go ahead. I'm listening."

"After the groom soared off in a fit of temper, I somehow managed to break away from the commotion. I intended to track down Phoenix before my mother had a chance. Phoenix and I weren't speaking at the time, for reasons you can probably infer. So, I never told him his life was in jeopardy; I suppose I thought that if I obeyed my mother, she would let him be.

"To my dismay, he was nowhere to be found. I returned to his room, a second time, about to search the grounds more thoroughly, when I noticed a marble box on the floor with its cover ajar. I wasn't sure it had been there before. I stepped a little closer and saw smudges of blood on the stone. There was a folded piece of parchment on top, which I opened first. 'Best Regards, Your Dearest Mother.' I don't know what compelled me to look inside the box. My friend's decomposing head was placed upon a bed of ashes. It was meant to be a wedding present, or a parting gift, if she was right about me and my propensity to fail her. Regardless of my nuptial status, he was dead already and had been for at least a day or two."

"Did you love him?" Chris asked.

"What? Oh. Did I love him? Yes, the way a lonely and unwanted child loves the only constant in her life."

"That's sad. I'm sorry."

Cassie stared into the space ahead of her for a moment, and then turned back to Chris. "Do you still want to hear the rest?"

"Only if you still want to tell me."

She nodded. "From there, I had to decide: live or die? To live, I would have to run, hide, struggle, find my way in a city that was not kind. It would have been easier to die, but I chose life. I went back to the North Tower, my humble abode, to shed my hideous wedding dress and pack some of my things. I lost many crucial minutes removing myself from the torn and tangled lace. It was as if I were ensnared in the wretched thing! Before I was even fully re-clothed, Andromeda hovered into my room. Her open wings cast a shadow over me. Every torch dimmed to a glowing tinder. I turned and backed away from her. Then my legs gave way. I caught myself with my hands and tried to scramble to my feet, but . . ."