[...cont'd]
The Queen was all but pulling her hair out with frustration. Sweet breath was all well and good but why? Why grant her such a mundane gift when he could easily give her fame, fortune, (rather, fortune even greater than her father’s, which, while not paltry, was only middle-class, as far as royalty goes) or – best of all – the surety of a really good husband? Queen Blanche was on the verge of demanding that the final fairy, a girl of, to all appearances, ten years, grant Princess Rosebud just that when a shadow swept the room. The temperature seemed to plummet by ten degrees and none of the guests were able to suppress a shudder. The doors to the veranda swung slowly open, creaking, as they had never done before. A tall, smooth-faced woman strolled in, pausing just inside to smile blandly at the crowd. The doors swung shut again behind her, absolutely noiselessly this time, and all the more ominous for it.
The King was the first to break the frozen silence, with a cheery greeting.
“Meredith! We were beginning to wonder if you’d ever show! I’m glad to see you haven’t forgotten your old cousin!” He strode forward all smiles and open arms. The onlookers cautiously began to smile a welcome, but their tremulous goodwill shrank again when the formidable lady did not alter her expression or stance as the King approached her.
“Were you now, dear Freddy?” Her voice was even, but the faintly mocking undertones brought the King to a halt. He frowned in consternation at the still, smiling lady. Behind him, the Queen was pale and panicked-looking.
“What d’you mean by that, Merry? I’d thought that you hadn’t R-S-V-P’d because you were too busy, what with being the top fairy consultant in the three continents, but you didn’t even come for the cake. I’d started to think you weren’t coming at all!” King Frederick’s hurt tones echoed in the otherwise silent hall. The Fairy Meredith, Consultant to the Tzars, frowned at her cousin, now. He did not cringe away from her evident displeasure but met her gaze with a plaintive expression. The Fairy’s own expression and tone softened slightly as she spoke.
“I would have like to R-S-V-P and to have been here for the cake, dear Cousin, but I’m afraid I could not do so, as I was not invited.” On the last word, her face tightened again and the crowd began to murmur and exchange glances. The Fairy – the King’s own cousin – not invited to the princess’s naming day? Unheard of!
The King was now truly distraught.
“But I sent you an invitation! I printed the address myself!” Gesturing to the majordomo (who was really a rather minor one, but he was the Queen’s third cousin and had gotten the job with only a little fudging on his application) for the guest list, the King continued.
“You recall, I told you I thought an enchanter’s dozen would be a nice number for magical representatives, especially as it covered all the near family and friends who practiced. Blanche and I talked it over and we each wrote up half of the invitations and she gave them to young Gary to post. Everyone else received theirs, are you sure-?” Meredith cut him off.
“No invitation came to my manor. No invitation came to my apartments at Dalas Palace. Nor those at Crumdon, Zatavia, or Pragambi. In fact, I cast a spell just to see where an invitation to me could have possibly been posted to and I found that none had ever been posted at all.” By the end of this, every word came out quick and crisp. The King stared at her in total confusion and incomprehension. At this point, the majordomo shoved the guest list into one of King Frederick’s upturned hands. The King grasped it and worriedly peered at it. His eyes ran down the list once, twice, then a third with his finger to accompany them. He looked up helplessly at the Fairy.
“I can’t understand it but you’re not on the guest list. But I know I wrote up your invitation and gave it to Blanche and –“ The King stopped.
[Cont'd...]
Labels: "Sleepless Beauty", stories
