Part 1 (1/2)
The Real Folktale Blues.
Beyond Ever After.
By Random Jordan.
Act I.
”My, what great magic you have.”
One.
A Charming Beginning.
”Once Upon My Time! She's here!” A mouse by the door squeaked.
”She is here.” A maid, carrying a tray of fruit, seconded.
”She has come, sire.” A faithful dark-haired wolf-servant elaborated to the Tsar.
”Good. S-”
”Sire, the fool has arrived.” A circlet-clad figure, crouched next to a silver throne in the center of the room, interrupted.
”I heard the first time, you Faerie Follies!” The Tsar exclaimed after standing up from his throne. His face was red with anger, and his hands clenched while he looked around the gem and silver studded chamber room, daring anyone to speak again.
”Now, send her in right away. I have waited long enough.” The chestnut haired Tsar decreed, before gracefully and extravagantly sitting upon his seat of honor.
The ma.s.sive pearl lined doors poured open with creaks and squeals filling up the throne room. But only two poorly dressed Guards stood in the doorway as it opened fully, both of them covering what little shame they had left with their hands.
The Tsar sat straight up from leaning back into his throne. He looked around at the rest of his subjects in the room with his eyebrows lowering in suspicion. Everyone else followed suit, gazing about each other, as if someone amongst them knew what was going on.
Not a single one of them knew. But I did.
”You've no need to look like a dolt on my account, Charming.” I spoke just before I dropped from the rafters high above his throne. My cloak and hood fluttered before settling with gentle ripples around my body when I hit the ground, crouched.
I was used to not being noticed until I wanted to be. The moment I spoke, every last pair of eyes in that room was gazing at me like I was the court jester putting on a show.
The circlet wearing servant, who had been crouched next to the Tsar's throne, jumped back when she saw me standing up from my crouch right behind her. This left me to stand next to the silver throne and its owner, alone. I smiled down at him through the shadow of my blood-red hood.
”Always with the dramatic entrances, sweetheart. But be a good girl and use my t.i.tle.” Charming spoke down to me, despite the smile adorning his lips.
Charming has and will always be the type that was condescending with cla.s.s. It was his trademark; his whole capital was crafted around it.
”You know me and t.i.tles, sweetheart. I prefer names, especially your name. It is so... very...” I spun my hand in the air as though it would help bring the word to my lips faster, ”... Charming.”
I also prefer sarcasm; it makes swallowing my words easier when they are drenched in it. I politely caressed the arm of Charming's metal throne with my gloved fingers before pa.s.sing down the stairs.
My cloak waved about almost ominously with the way every subject in the room was looking toward me. Fear was an easily recognizable condition for someone in my line of work. One servant even nearly dropped a tray he was holding due to his shaking limbs. It was like they all expected me to bring out a couple axes and start chopping everyone in the room down.
I ignored it though. I couldn't help but smile at the two guards stripped down to their skins, quaking so severely you could see past their fingers if you looked in just the right way. Apparently Charming didn't care to send them away.
”Always the firecracker, R-” He stopped, just as a hatchet with a ruby handle slid from my fingers to twirl and embed into his silver throne not more than two finger widths from his face. Despite at least forty people staring at me, not one of them saw more than crimson blurs of the cloak pus.h.i.+ng out of my way and the hatchet tumbling through the air when I had half-turned to throw it.
”What did I just tell you, Charming? I prefer names, use them.” I grinned at him under the shadow of my hood.
I didn't like to threaten, unless necessary, but for Charming it was always necessary.
”Always so s.p.u.n.ky you are; I love it. Very well...” He paused; I rolled my eyes.
”It is Gnidori, Charming. I exposed your entire wife-collecting operation and you still don't bother to remember at least my first or last name?” I frowned while explaining to him what he forgot.
There was no reason I had to show him any kind of tact. He wasn't ruler over me, and he knew as much as I did, that I could take his life and walk out without so much as a scratch on me. I could call Charming whatever I wanted, but at the very least he wasn't a total fool.
If he couldn't take it though, then I had no problem leaving. I wasn't the one who had asked for a meeting. I had nothing to lose by leaving him be. In fact I probably had something to gain; not having to see him again.
Charming lilted down the same small steps I had, smiling at me the whole time. He clearly decided to ignore my comment about his wife-collecting operation. It was probably a touchy subject for him.
”Gnidori! Ah yes, with the silent G, wasn't it? I do think your t.i.tle is certainly more suiting to you. You do still wear the hood, after all.”
The elaborately dressed Tsar returned to my front after prancing about me in admiration to find my cloak and hood covering me from head to toe. He placed one tan finger upon both of his lips and gazed at me with a slightly tilted head.
His finger fell away after a few silent moments. I could hear ambient chatter from servants all about as he leaned in toward me. He was hardly a few inches away, and certainly able to see my full face under the crimson hood.
”Why do you still wear it?” The former prince asked me as if my entire life was riding upon the answer.
”My grandmamma gave it to me. Don't you ever keep important things with you?” I asked with an unseen tilt of my head. ”Oh right, I forgot, the only thing important to you, is you. Maybe you should try caring about something other than your precious jewels sometime.”
Choruses of gasps from the various servants around the room made me smile even wider. I wondered how many of them thought I had meant the sparkly kind of jewels like on his throne and how many caught that I was talking about the ones he kept closer to himself.
No one talked to a Tsar like I did. That was exactly why I would do it.
”Always the sharp tongue you have, my darling.” He pestered me, despite standing inches away from where I could place an axe blade through his heart before anyone in the room could blink twice. He was tempting me; I knew it. He loved trying to bait me and manipulate me, even if it would end in his injury. But I knew better.
”Goodbye, Charming.” I said while spinning around on a single heel and starting to carry myself far away from that dark-haired Tsar. He was lucky he even got a goodbye. I wasn't in the mood to put up with his talk, let alone his word and mind games and I knew this would be the best way to just move things along.
”Wait, Gnidori! I called you here because she is back.” He started with a yell over everyone else chattering, but when he got to *she' it was barely above a whisper. That b.a.s.t.a.r.d knew exactly what would hook me.
I swung around, my cloak following behind me. The shadow my hood cast hid the expression of disgust on my face. I, Gnidori Hodder, actually wanted and needed something from the man formerly known as Prince Charming.
I could have died a sad, sad person at that moment.
The worst of it was that Charming knew I was interested. The smug smirk on his tanned face explained it all.
The tall, dark and handsome Tsar strode the distance between us with far too much pride gleaming from every movement of his gait. He knew how to milk a moment for all it had. And I hated him for that.