Frederick

I wake to dainty breaths in my hair. I open my eyes and look up. My angel is fast asleep with her arms around me. She must have spent hours with my head in her lap, and the servants gave her a pillow and blanket after she fell asleep.

All to give me a good night’s rest. How sweet.

I carefully extracted myself from her loving embrace so as not to disturb one single follicle of her lovely soft fur. I tiptoed to the window. The trees and mountains of the kingdom had long since passed; now I could see only rolling fields of grain and the sapphire waters of the Fey Glimmer sea glowing in the rosy dawn.

Oh my, I must have slept straight through the afternoon and night! That would explain my stomach’s rebellious protests.

So I tiptoed through the gauntlet of toy carriages, blocks, and wooden soldiers and out the door to the dining compartment to wage war upon my hunger.

I was the first one awake, which is a shame; I do enjoy our family breakfasts, dinners, and suppers. They make me feel like a father, at least a better one than my own. The others filtered into breakfast twos: first Lillabella and Tristan, then the twins in Miss Pipan’s arms, and finally Hilda in my queen’s arms. I had long since finished my mountain of meat and pancakes, but I lingered because I am a good father and husband.

After breakfast, all eyes were glued to the windows as the train wound through amber rolling hills and little towns outside, except for Aoibheann, who was taking her time getting dressed.

Somewhere up ahead, Lizzy was singing to herself in her strange-sounding English. I did not quite understand the words, but it was a catchy song.

We had long since passed into the Royaume des Rêves. Lillabella and Tristan sat beside me, pointing out interesting bits of scenery. I looked at every one of them because, truth be told, I have never been down to Slanach Town or the rest of the Royaume before.

I always intended to; I was just… busy.

By late morning, the train huffed along the walls of Slanach Town and into Slanach’s little train station. The children apparently knew we were finally here from the way they bounced up and down.

“All right, you little monsters,” I said as I scooped Lillabella and Tristan up, “Ready to see the Fairy Godmother?”

“Yeths,” they both shouted, followed by giggling.

I stepped towards the stairs with Miss Pippán and the twins in my wake.

“Darling, are you ready yet?” I shouted up the stairs to the carriage’s second story.

“Coming,” Aoibheann’s voice called back in a playful singsong.

A flash of pink swept across the landing, and my jaw dropped. I have not seen a dress like that since 1518, when I was still mortal. My lovely wife had forgone her usual dresses, with their layers and silk flowers, for a 16th-century long-sleeved frock embroidered with roses, with a matching train

She came giggling up to me and closed my hanging jaw. “Surprised?” she asked.

“You look as lovely as the day we ran away,” I said. It was a stupid thing to say, but I said it anyway.

“I am in a nostalgic mood,” she giggled. “Shall we?”

I offered my elbow, and she led the way.

Outside, a full royal welcome awaited. We exited the carriage to a blast of fanfare onto a red carpet. The carpet was lined with soldiers in parade uniforms; golly, I have not seen uniforms with puffed trousers and floppy, colorful jackets since I was a prince. As we lighted and sauntered to the open-topped golden and pearl carriage with white horses, a herald in full costume announced us, including a very long list of my achievements during my erantry days, to a crowd of looky-loos.

My family ate up the attention. Except for little Hilda, all the children were waving at the adoring crowd. I didn’t wave; my arms were full of toddlers, but I also felt a little self-conscious about all the attention. We never used to do this sort of thing back in Sliberberg, so I guess that is why.

The brick station sat on a circular plaza with a small park in the center. We filed into the carriage, and after a few moments we were off down the brick street. The plaza and market street to the castle were lined with half-timbered buildings with thatch roofs, another thing I have not seen in a long time; thatch is a disaster waiting to happen back in the valley. It looked like a bustling market street: a butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker, shops of all kinds, with awnings, signage, garden boxes, and bunting. None of it seemed magical enough for the kingdom of the Fairy Godmother; it actually looked like any street in my father’s long-lost capital.

Then the street ended at another circular plaza. At the center stood a massive statue of Fionnuala, wings outstretched, holding a little girl’s hand and waving her magical scepter. Beyond it was the Castle of Dreams, a fairytale edifice of white spires with blue roofs and golden trim that made my own castle seem plain in comparison.

Whatever else this place might be, I intended to have a very long conversation with Fionnuala.

Aoibheann

Everything is just as I remember it.

Mr Droz’s sweet shop, Mr Beauregard’s bakery, and Mrs Poulin’s flower shop are there. The brick streets, black lampposts, the plaza, and the castle are the same.

I wonder if Aunty Fifi kept my bedroom the same after all these years?

The carriage rumbled through the gates into the gardens where I played with Lunelette, Isabeau, and Marielle. I have not seen them in more than 500 years and cannot wait to see them again.

Waiting at the foot of the grand stairs for us was Aunty Fifi in the gauzy, sparkly blue dress she always wears. I flew out before the carriage stopped and threw my arms around my favorite aunty.

“Oh, my favorite little rosebud,” she said sweetly, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I said. It had only been a week or so since she was last up in Sliberberg, but to me, that was an eternity.

The carriage rumbled to a stop, and out tumbled my babies and my Freddy Pooh: Tristan and Lillabella in front, Frederick behind them.

They raced up to her, crying, “Aunty Fifi, Fifi!” She gave them the same doting hugs she used to give me when I was that little. I am so jealous of them.

After Aunty Fifi had her fill of cuddling, kissing, and hugging my babies, she smiled and said, “Oh, wonderful. Now that you are all here, I have a little lunch prepared for us, if you so desire it.”

“Yes,” was the seemingly unanimous response from my family and me.

“Wonderful,” Aunty Fifi said, and with a flick of her wings she led the way, hovering through the castle.

The Great Hall looked just as I remembered: blue tile, stained glass, and gold leaf. Eight places were set at the table, one for each of us. Three normal seats were for Aunty Fifi, me, and Frederick, and five high chairs were for the babies. In front of each seat was a covered gold tray.

Once we were seated, Aunty Fifi smiled, and the lids vanished. Freddy Pooh’s plate had a massive pile of sausages with mustard, cheese sauce, and fried onions. My darlings’ eyes went wide with delight at the little palaces of sweets, pudding, and cake on their plates. My plate held fruit salad with a sweet syrup dressing.

“Bon appétit my darlings,” she said

We all dug in except for Frederick. I could tell he was sorely tempted to join in.

“Lady Fionnuala,” he said, clearing his throat.

Aunty Fifi stopped cutting up her chicken and said with a smile, “What trouble do you mean, Freddy? And please call me Fionnuala or Aunty Fifi.”

“Well, Lady … I mean, Fionnuala, you must surely have heard word of the trouble in the Silver Highlands?” he said.

Aunty Fifi tilted her head sideways and asked, “What trouble do you mean? I know of many troubles in the Silver Highlands.”

“I mean the explosions at the Grand Undertaking facilities at Moss Run, Drachenfels Castle, and Paxton’s Crossing, and the resulting wyrd leaks,” he said, slightly annoyed.

“Oh, that trouble,” Aunty Fifi said. “Dreadful business, but I would not call it explosions. My papa is getting restless as he nears freedom, and the wyrd pressure is building. Our drills hit a few pockets of wyrd, and the pressure blew out some piping. The artificers assure me they are modifying the devices so it will not happen again.”

“Wait, why are we drilling at the sites?” asked Frederick, alarmed.

“Freddy Pooh, maybe this can wait until after…”

“No,” he said, shooting up to his feet. “Lady Fionnuala, you have been keeping things from us. I want answers. What devices are we building all over the place? What exactly do they do? How will they stop Faolan the Mad?”

Oh, Freddy Pooh, can you not see how rude you are being right now? Can we not finish our lunch first?

“Please sit down, young man,” said Aunty Fifi in a disappointed teacher voice. “The answers will come in time, and the time is not right for answers.”

“When will that be?” asked Frederick. I could have sworn I heard a growl in his voice.

“I will reveal all when the pieces are in place, and the project is far enough along that it will not jeopardize the undertaking,” said Aunty Fifi. Her voice stiffened; I had never heard it like that before. “Trust me, I want to tell you the plan because you are crucial to its success, hero king, but the time is not right. If you can wait a few more months, everything will become clear.”

“NOT GOOD ENOUGH,” shouted Frederick, slamming the table. “My people are terrified of what happened. If you do not give something to calm them down, then I will have no choice but to leave the undertaking.”

Aunty Fifi merely shrugged.

“Fine,” said Frederick as he started to walk away. “If you are not going to give me answers, I will search the entire castle until I find them.”

“No, you will not,” said Aunty Fifi angrily. She started to mutter the words of Orlaith’s fugue of flinging.

“No,” I shouted.

Too late. Frederick was hurled out through one of the stained-glass windows. I could hear him screaming until he landed with a splash.

“Relax, rosebud. I threw him outside the castle gates,” said Aunty Fifi smugly. “He is perfectly fine. He will see things my way eventually; he needs some time to cool off.”

I relaxed and slumped back into my chair.

Suddenly, the sugar and fruit salad didn’t look all that appealing.

She smiled and then asked, “So how is goddess training going?”