“ A gain! Again!” the Spring Princess cried, just as the story had concluded. She stood from her bed in a ribboned night dress.
Her mother, the Queen of all the Fae, hesitated. “Are you sure? You know there are other stories I could tell you.”
“No. I want my father’s story,” Spring insisted, her blue-green eyes sparkling under her strawberry blonde locks. She shifted the small gray and white kitten in her arms to emphasize her point—a gift from the last time the faerie cat had reported to the Queen. “I want the cat without boots, and the prince without a soul! It’s the one I love the best-est.”
That certainly seemed to be true. Humans were so fragile that the Queen could never leave her staff to care for Spring as she had with her elder daughters.
She had to make sure the girl ate and slept and wasn’t harassed by other fae.
As such, the Queen had been there every time Spring requested more stories of her father.
It was enough to make her wonder. “Then are you angry with me, child? That we must be separated?”
“No,” the girl said with a sudden thoughtfulness that made her seem much older than she was. “Da wasn’t happy here. You had to let him go because you are the best-est queen. You don’t want anyone to be unhappy, even if they are human. Even if it makes you cry.”
The best-est queen? The Queen shook her head.
The two realms touched in more places than the humans seemed to realize. In shadows, dreams, and anything that could carry a reflection. As such, the Queen could tell her daughter much about the humans, even if they wouldn’t see her in return, but she really wasn’t any good at telling stories. None of the fae were, as they could only speak the truth. That was a gift of the humans, twisting their words to fit the needs of the tale.
And with it came another gift.
Humans often lied, but there were times when they said or even just thought something that wasn’t quite true but had some real belief behind it. And that was when the Queen could feel the magic around her building most acutely, twisting up every part of her being to will that thing into existence.
She might never have been the “best-est queen” as her daughter had described it, but that was what she was determined to become to please this child.
Who could have imagined such a thing?
The girl was petting her cat again, considering. “But that threadwitch he married . . . She is like me. She was human, but she was like a faerie too, wasn’t she? The way she could make other people’s dreams come true?”
“Perhaps.” The Queen reluctantly saw the connection.
Spring smiled contentedly. “And Da loves her, so he will love me too, when I go to see them. They both will.”
“You are so certain.” It was the only truth the Queen could speak out loud.
Spring nodded, playing with her kitten’s paws again. “They love cats, and so do I,” she said with more of a sing-song voice, even briefly giving herself whiskers.
There didn’t appear to be any hope to talk her out of it. “Perhaps you are right, but it is not a journey I could make with you. As such, you must promise me that you will not attempt it too soon.”
“I won’t,” Spring said, but then she seemed to remember her fae blood—all the powers that would bring new life to the Fae Realm and might one day make her queen. She seized on the opportunity to make a bargain. “But only if you tell me the story again.”
The End
A royal Selection Ball. A doomed romance. He’s not exactly a prince, but then, she’s not entirely human . . . Find out what happens when the Spring Princess travels to the Mortal Realm in the start of a new sequel series, The Swan Bride .