Page 38 of How To Survive This Fairytale

“Because she is kind and good,” you say at once.“No one has anything to fear from her.”

Gertrude’s littlehmof laughter rings hollow and unsurprised.“Yes, I expected you to say as much,” she says.“Cyrus told me what happened.You may not speak the truth, but I can, and I will.”

She holds up her hands.White gloves, to match Cyrus’s white wing.Finger by finger, she tugs them off, and then you see what curse-breaking did to her.Gnarled, swollen, arthritic knuckles.A thousand tiny cross-hatched scars from wrist to fingertip.

“I did not fear the Fair Queen because I knew no magic would ever consider me more beautiful than her,” says Gertrude.“I had enemies, but she would never be one of them.”

What is there to say?You only nod.

“In a way, I’m almost sorry for it,” she says.“Because if you had come to kill me, I could have saved you from her so much sooner.”

You make a strangled noise in your throat.She knows.She knows.

Of course she knows.

“As it is, you saved yourself.Perhaps that’s better.Perhaps not.”She shrugs one shoulder and tugs her gloves back over her fingers.“But you’re here now, with us, and if I may speak plainly?I don’t care what you did.It means nothing to me.”

“Gertrude—”

“No, you must listen to me, Hans, because we have this in common.”Her voice sharpens.“I let so many things…happento me… because I had no choice.Not the wrong choice, butno choiceat all.If I did not let the storyhappen, I would not be free.Cyrus would not be free.But the moment I realized I had choices… Hans, the moment I realized I could change the story… Do the specifics matter?I found my way, and changed it.”

She laces her fingers together and squeezes, straining under the weight of things she will never tell you.You’ll never make her say it.You know enough of murder to guess what she did.Husbands who die of broken hearts make marvellously romantic stories.

“I want you to know you needn’t rely only on yourself now.Cyrus and I would both like it if you stayed.If you choose to leave and make a home elsewhere, that’s your decision.Our other brothers did that and we would hardly hold it against you.But youarewelcome here, Hans.There is no world where we would ever turn you away.”

Twenty-One

With the moneythe Fair Queen paid Gertrude, you purchase a small home in the woods.It has a bedroom, a kitchen, a place to sit.What more do you need?

“Walls that won’t crumble in,” says Cyrus.“You do need that much.”

“I can repair the walls.”

“And a roof that won’t cave in while you sleep.Hans, honestly, you could do far better than this.You could move in with me, even.”

But you shake your head.

“I need to build something for myself,” you say.“I need to see that my hands can make something beautiful.”

He softens, then.The way he looks at you changes.

“Then why not build from scratch?”he asks.

“I don’t want to start over,” you say, “Ican’tstart over.I want to take something beaten and broken and fix it.I need something wretched.I need to know that this house can be worth living in again.”

Cyrus nods, slowly, and looks around.There’s mold growing in the corner, but he’s generous enough not to point it out.

“Well, it’s got good bones,” he says.“And come spring, we’ll make a garden grow.”

Twenty-Two

“Look, Red,”you say, “if you want to learn to hunt, it’s going to be the hard way.By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be able to put a bullet in the left eye of a fly on the branch of an oak tree two miles away.”

“That soundsfun,” she says.

“It may well be, but it’s also going to take time, and effort, and a whole lot of work on your part.”

“Okay.”