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Early Spring, Present Day

W hen Hilde got word her favorite niece had fallen and broken her arm, she dropped everything and headed to Drumchapel Village, where her sister still lived. Granted, it took some effort to return to the human realm, but she was determined to make sure her little Marigold was all right.

Linnea, her sister, had sounded so distraught on the phone.

The past three years proved difficult for her and her niece. Hilde visited as much as possible, but she had to return to the other realm to rejuvenate herself. She found renewed vitality and energy in the other realm.

Her sister seemed unaffected by being in the human realm.

Marigold, however, was showing signs of illness. Doctors were puzzled by her recurring breathing problems, leading to multiple hospital visits. Of course, they were a mystery. Hilde, unlike her sister, understood her condition. They remained clueless.

Linnea intended to keep the secret. She refused to allow Hilde to tell Marigold the truth. At some point, the girl had to know. Now that she was in those tween years, she noticed she wasn’t like the other girls her age. She was more of an old soul with a vibrant personality, stunning looks, and far more intelligence than her peers.

That was because of her bloodline.

Hilde pushed all those thoughts away as she hurried up the sidewalk. The house on Crown Lane hadn’t changed a bit. At least on the outside of the house. After her brother-in-law unexpectantly passed, Linnea started redecorating. New flooring. New paint throughout. Kitchen renovation. Bathroom renovations.

She rang the bell and waited. Moments later, Linnea opened the door and ushered her in.

“You don’t have to ring the bell. You’re family,” she said.

Hilde kissed her on the cheek in greeting. “It feels odd to barge in.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said.

“Auntie!” Marigold’s joyful voice greeted her. She hurried through the living room, her arm in a sling.

“Marigold!” her mother said, chastising.

But the girl ignored her and flung her body toward her. Hilde caught her in a big hug, squeezing her tight, but being careful of her injured arm and thankful the girl was all right. When she pulled back, she held her at arm’s length, looking her over.

“Now, how did you do this?” Hilde asked, nodding to her arm in the sling.

“I fell at school. I’m all right.”

“She’s not all right. It’s broken. The doctor wants her to see an orthopedic surgeon in the morning,” Linnea said.

Hilde took her by the hand and led her back into the living room. Gone was the well-worn furniture replaced by newer, more functional pieces. Two three-seat cushion sofas were on either side of a square oak coffee table.

“That sounds serious,” Hilde said.

Together, they sat on one of the sofas. Marigold snuggled up next to her, holding her injured arm against her chest.

“How about some tea or coffee?” Linnea asked.

“Tea, please.”

Nodding, Linnea headed off to the kitchen to prepare it.

The house was old. Instead of the open concept that was popular in floor plans in the newer homes, this home still had the rooms sectioned off. Linnea disappeared into the kitchen to prepare the tea, which gave Hilde time to question her niece about the fall.

“How did you fall?” she asked.

With her sunny blonde head down, she said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t ,” she said, sounding angry.

Hilde thought she understood. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure her sister was still in the kitchen, then lowered her voice.

“Were you pushed?” she asked.

Marigold lifted her head, her blue eyes big and round. “How did you know?”

“Tell me what happened,” she said, instead of answering her question.

The girl settled down next to her again, plucking a stray string off the edge of her shirt. “The other girls are mean to me.”

That sent a pang right to heart. How could they be mean to her sweet Marigold? She wanted to have a few strong words with these girls, whoever they were.

“They pick on me and call me names. Why would they do that? I’ve done nothing to them,” she said and glowered.

“They’re jealous of you, my sweet girl.”

“But why?” She looked up at her again. Tears stood in her eyes. It was hard to see her hurting.

“Because you are…” She paused, trying to choose her words. Hilde wanted to do everything in her power to make Marigold understand those girls didn’t matter. They never would.

“I’m ugly, aren’t I?”

“Heavens, no!” she said on a shocked breath. “Marigold, you are far from ugly. You’re smart and pretty and special. You have a kind soul. I wish you knew how special you were. That’s probably why they treat you that way.” It was the closest she came to telling her the truth.

She frowned. “I don’t feel special.”

Linnea returned carrying two steaming mugs. She handed one to Hilde, who took it, grateful for the warm brew. As she sat across from them, her cell phone rang. She answered it and a moment later, her face fell. News she didn’t want.

“There’s no one else?” Pause and then she said, “All right. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

When she hung up, she looked at the two of them.

“What is it?” Hilde asked.

“It was work. They need me to come in. Someone called in sick.”

“You go. I can stay here until you get back,” Hilde said.

“You don’t mind?” She glanced at Marigold, who said nothing.

“Not at all. We’ll be fine. Won’t we?”

Marigold nodded, a smile on her youthful face. “Auntie will take good care of me.”

She rose and headed for the front door, where she grabbed her coat and purse from the coat rack. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. There are some leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry.”

The front door opened and closed, and then she was gone.

“Do you want to tell me more about these mean girls?” Hilde asked.

She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to talk about them.” She scooted away from her, turning toward her. The light had returned to her face. “I want you to tell me a story.”

“A story?” Hilde grinned. “Haven’t you had enough stories?”

“I never have enough stories. Tell me one, please . It will make me feel ever so much better.” She blinked her wide blue eyes at her, batting her lashes.

Hilde chuckled. The girl always knew how to get her way. How could she refuse?

“All right. Let me think.” She tapped her chin with a forefinger as though deep in concentration. “Ah. I have just the one.”

“What’s it about?” Excitement lit the girl’s eyes, a marked improvement over her earlier mood.

“Why, it’s about a beautiful young woman who can read magical languages. One day, she finds herself in an enchanted castle with a mysterious half man, half beast.”

The girl gasped. “Half beast? How?”

“He was cursed.”

Her mouth formed a wide O. “Cursed?”

“Yes. Once upon a time, there was a girl named Bella…”