Letters to Zell (18 page)

Princess Briar R. Rose

Somnolent Tower Castle

South Road, Grimmland

Dear Zell,

At dinner tonight, I asked the attendant what time it was. Henry said, from the other end of the table, that we should put a clock in the dining room. And I said I’d ask Solace to craft something suitable. And then he said that was fine as long as it wasn’t as ugly as the thing in the tower.

I put my fork down. I asked him exactly when he’d been in the tower. And he said, oh, it was a while ago. When he rescued me. Maybe since. He couldn’t remember.

I began to feel dizzy. My thoughts swirled, and my blood started to zing through my veins, almost painfully. I felt like I had been pulled out of my own body.

I watched myself get out of my chair and ask him, again,
exactly
when he’d been in
my
tower and why. The red blush on his neck crawled into his ears, and as it did, everything fell into place. Maro here, Maro in my tower, Henry in my tower, Maro happy, Henry happy, Rory deeply unhappy. This must have been the big secret. CeCi knew, Bianca knew, I assume you knew, and not one of you had the decency to tell me.

He said he was sorry. He said it wasn’t his fault. Then he said it wasn’t me, it was him. And still then he said it
was
me because I was too timid, because I didn’t act like I wanted him, because I acted like I wanted him too much. Because he doesn’t know me. Because he deserved something, didn’t he? What did I want from him, anyway?

I took a walk to clear my head and made a lap around the pond to see if the Frog Prince was playing ball. But he was gone. I sat there for a long time, wondering if the lily pad in the middle of the pond was as lonely as I am. Everyone else has taken charge of her own rowboat, but here I am being pulled along by the current. I’m sleepwalking through my days.

When the Frog Prince re-entered the glade, there was a shining maiden at his side. I told her to be careful she didn’t catch the kissing sickness.

I suppose I don’t blame you for keeping the secret, Zell. I wouldn’t expect you to have written me with the news when you weren’t here to verify it. CeCi and Bianca should have told me as soon as they found out instead of creeping on eggshells to avoid Maro. Everything is so much clearer now.

The humorous thing is, Zell, in my grand plot, I wasn’t wrong to ask a Fairy Godmother for help. I simply chose the wrong one. After all these years, it’s time I paid Malice a visit.

Rory

H
er Feet Burned as She Danced

I
mportant Fucking Correspondence from Snow B. White

Onyx Manor

West Road, Grimmland

Z,

You’re wrong. I am not going to change my mind. As soon as I said it to Rory, I knew it was what I wanted, what I’ve always wanted. I can’t imagine life any other way anymore. Surely you, of all people, understand. When I picture staying in this stagnant cesspool, I’m flooded with the same sort of misery that CeCi must have felt before she began cooking school. We lacked more than purpose, Zell; we lacked a direction. My direction is Outside.

CeCi might not see the change in herself, but I certainly do. I’m proud to have been a part of her transformation. I wish she’d grant me the same courtesy. I wish Rory would, too, but first she has to stand up for herself—with or without the knowledge of Maro and Henry.

My first order of business is sharing my decision with William. I pour our conversational bourbons and jump right in. “You know how we’re getting married next week?”

“Saw something about that on my calendar
 . . .
No joke, I got my big shiny suit and everything.” He pumps his fist in mock excitement.

“And you know the conversation we had before about being partners and everything?”

“Of course.”

“You’re one of my best friends, right?”

“I hope so. Though I might have to reconsider if you don’t get to your point soon.”

My skin is crawling with nerves. “I need to do something. Something you might not understand. Or like, even.”

“Hit me.”

“After we get married, I need to leave.”

“We talked about this, didn’t we? Traveling’s no problem. You want to travel. I want to travel. We’ll figure it out. For how long?”

“Forever.”

“Is this a joke?” He stands up, looking injured. “It’s not very funny.” His reaction dents my bubble of elation. But I charge ahead.

“I want to go Outside. For good.”

He pauses a moment, swallows the rest of his drink, then puts his glass down. “What are you talking about? You can’t just renege, B. We had a deal. Plans. Remember? Ruling as a team. Exploring. Together. Separately. No strings. Why now?”

“Well, a lot of reasons. First, there’s my father.”

He spools up his usual speech, replete with well-timed pacing. “Bianca, he doesn’t want to see you. He left. On purpose.”

“I know, but it’s because he blames himself. I can’t live forever knowing that he’s dying on the other side with all that guilt.”

He practically throws fresh ice into his empty glass. “He
should
be dying with guilt, Bianca. Hell, it’s been, what, two years? Who knows? He could be anywhere. Or he could be nowhere. Outside’s a dangerous place. He could be sick or even—”

“Don’t, Will. Don’t say things you can’t unsay.”

He goes on anyway. “You’re always the first one to champion everyone else’s injustices. You can hardly stand it when bad things happen to Rory and CeCi. But you can’t see the knife poised in front of your own damned heart. Are you broken or something?”

Tears smart in my eyes. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am on your side,” he says, slumping with his back to the wall. “Or at least I’m trying to be. But you’ve packed your fucking side into a suitcase bound for a place the rest of us can’t go. Are you too obtuse to see that?”

“Obtuse?”

“Stubborn. Inconsistent. Inconsiderate. How am I supposed to feel? I pretend to marry you. Then I lose my friend. I lose my partner. I start over again? Am I not getting the short end of this stick?”

“We have to get married, William. My Pages.”

“Fuck your Pages. I thought you were my best friend.”

“I am. But I’m not in love with you. You’re not in love with me.”

“We already discussed this. I don’t care about romance. I care about regretting your decision, not being able to come back. I care about you dying out there and me never getting to see you again. Remember when Rapunzel took off? This is a thousand times worse.”

He’s right, of course. But I have to tell him everything. “I know that you’re okay not being in love. But I’m not sure I was being honest when I said I was okay with it.”

He pours us both a couple more fingers of whiskey. “So you lied?”

“I didn’t lie to you, William. I lied to me. I’m not in love with you. But that doesn’t mean I’m not in love.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so? You’re free to love whoever you want. Go, then.” He’s flustered. I have to stop letting him interrupt me.

“No, William. With someone Outside.”

“How is that even possible?” He laughs at himself. “Never mind. Nice work, Bianca. It’s not often a guy gets cuckolded before he’s even married.”

“It’s not like that. Nothing worse than the flirting
you
do over at Shambles.” I’d elbow him if he’d come near me, but he’s wedged himself into a corner, as if I’ve grown a particularly twisty pair of horns. “She’s just different. I want to spend the rest of my life knowing her, getting to know her. No matter how long that may be. And it’s not like you’ll never see me again.”

He takes several moments to collect himself. He drains his glass, fills it, and drains it again.

“Fuck, Bianca. What am I supposed to say? I’m not sure how to be your friend here.”

“I’m sorry. I am.”

He lets out a long sigh. “I know you are. But still.”

“I want to leave everything to you. My castle, the money, the maps. You’re going to be a great king. I already know it.”

We both cry for a little while, backs to one another. Then we laugh for a long time at each other, with each other, and cry a bit more. I don’t want to screw Will over. I think he knows that—at least I hope so.

We’d both regret our original plan if we went through with it. If he ever finds that person, that True Love, for himself, he’ll understand. I think maybe he already does, deep down, even though it must feel as if I’ve hit him in the windpipe. Like we all felt when you left.

But now, it’s as if I’m the sky after a rainstorm, you know? Like when all the dust is washed clean. I wouldn’t ever want to have a conversation like it again, but I’m glad we had it. I’m making my apologies so that I can start over again. Honestly. Like I always meant to.

I am, Zell, apologizing to you, too. I’m sorry for so very many things. I’m sorry for doubting you and your choice. Can you please forgive me? And support mine in return?

Love,

B

PS. I know your mother-in-law succeeded with the temporary ban, but I’m sure I could pull some strings. We could sneak you into the wedding if we put you inside the cake.

F
rom the Desk of Cecilia Cinder Charming

Crystal Palace

North Road, Grimmland

Dear Zell,

Not ten breaths after Edmund left our chambers this morning, Darling and Sweetie stumbled in, slamming the door behind them. Darling kept her back to the door as Sweetie began to call for me. “CeCi? Quick, help.”

I hopped up and out of bed and took her outstretched hand. They still look so young—skin untouched by sun and eyes that healed from the bird attack into a pale, eerie blue. It’s been an adjustment, seeing myself as their friend instead of their rival, but every once in a while they surprise me with a gratitude that’s almost overwhelming.

Sweetie folded my hands in hers. “We overheard something terrible.”

“Horrible,” whispered Darling, her back still at the door.

“That Maro woman,” Sweetie said. “She’s here right now. She told Mother that she has a secret about you.”

“Of course Mother took her into her chambers, but our ears are extra good since, well, our eyes, you know,” said Darling, head bowed.

“Maro told Mother that you were taking some sort of cooking classes, like a common peasant. She said she trusted that Mother would know what to do with the information.” Sweetie was shaking. “Mother’s going to tell Edmund that you’ve been sneaking away, and he’ll forbid you from going Outside again. We told him the grooms weren’t sure which horse to saddle today and sent him to the barns before she could get to him. But she will find him, eventually. You know she will. Hurry, CeCi, we have to do something before he comes home this evening.”

“It’s okay,” I said, switching our grip so that I was holding both of Sweetie’s hands. “He already knows. I told him two nights ago.”

“Oh, thank goodness. We were so worried,” said Darling, sliding down to the floor.

Sweetie exhaled and tilted her head at me. “Was he very mad at you?”

I pulled her back a few steps to sit on the edge of the bed. “He was angry that I lied to him. As he should have been. But we’re talking more, now. We’re trying to find a place where we can both be more honest with one another. With the other people in our lives. It’s a process, you know. I can’t fix what I did overnight. I shouldn’t have kept things from him in the first place.”

“Is being a chef really what you want to do?” asked Darling.

“Yes,” I said. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but yes.”

“I think it makes perfect sense,” said Darling. “You were brilliant at it. Not that we let you believe it for a minute.”

“Oh, just think,” said Sweetie. “She might make us those little eggs in a cup like she used to.”

Darling hissed. “Hush. She never wants to cook for us again. Remember what Mother said to her? What
we
said?”

“We were perfectly horrid, CeCi. You probably don’t even want to eat in the same room as us,” Sweetie said, scooting away from me.

“Of course I do. It’s different now, right? Maybe we can have a sisters’ dinner every once in a while. I know I haven’t been around very much. It’s nothing to do with you. Maybe you can catch me up on the gossip.”

Darling made her way to the bed and sat on the other side of me. “Did you hear about Red Riding Hood?”

“Or the rumor about the shoemaker’s elves?” asked Sweetie.

“Sweetie has a crush on the prince with one swan wing.”

Sweetie giggled. “So does Darling.”

“Oh, my,” I said. “I’m further behind than I thought.”

They squeezed my hands, and I was overwhelmed by their concern. “Thank you. Thank you for coming to me.”

“Of course,” said Sweetie. “If this is what you want, we believe in you.”

“We’ll test all your recipes,” said Darling.

“Even the gross ones,” said Sweetie.

“We hope you know how much we love you,” said Darling. “We don’t always know how to tell you, though. We have no right.”

“You have every right.” I wanted to tell them that we were all just children back then. None of us knew any better. But that’s not exactly it, either. A part of them will always remain dependent and brainwashed, and I don’t want to exploit them or cultivate their allegiance like Lucinda does. I just want life to be fairer to them than it has been in the past. That can’t be too much to hope for, can it?

Then again, things aren’t fair. One of my best friends moved to Oz and another is choosing to live the rest of her life as a Human.

Bianca could travel between both worlds. Like I will. She tells me that we’ll have a good long life of friendship when I visit her. But I’m afraid it won’t be the same. I wish I could change her mind, but each time we come back from Outside, more of her heart seems to remain there.

I complained to Phil that Bianca was thinking of moving to Los Angeles permanently. He told me to quit worrying, and let my friend live her life. I’m not trying to be selfish, but Phil said I needed to try harder.

Since Phil was feeling so sagacious, I also asked him his opinion about Rory and Maro. He asked me what I would want everyone to do if the situation were reversed. Therefore, I’ve resolved to tell Rory as soon as possible. She wasn’t taking visitors when we stopped by on our way to class today. Nor this evening. So I’ll try again in the morning. I’ll be glad when this vault of secrets is completely empty.

Speaking of empty, noodles always need to be boiled in water. A lot of water. And you have to take them out after forty or so rounds of “Ninety-nine Bottles of Mead on the Wall.” I’m sorry your kitchen smells so badly. Perhaps a nice bouquet of flowers or a few bowls of vinegar or baking soda might help absorb the smoke. Let me know how it works.

Love,

CeCi