Cruel Prince

Newly wedded to the handsome Prince Christopher Whitelaw, tonight was the first of the four-day-long celebration.
Z, resplendent in her wedding gown, eventually managed to make her way through the packed hall to the balcony with the French doors; which she gratefully shut behind her, sighing deeply.
Despite her sigh, the woman rejoiced deeply to finally have married the sought-after Prince Whitelaw, it was just that all the many types of people, dancing, food and drinks had wearied her out already. Even though now, as one of the most distinguished royals, it meant there was no privacy for her, the thin panes of glass relieved Z’s raw nerves.
The befreckled woman had to admit she had been given quite the luxury of solitude whenever she wished it during her year long engagement with Christopher and being at this new court.
A breathy singing caught Z’s attention from down below in the garden, and when the singer came into sight it was one of the twin girls. Both still young enough to have their baby faces with their short-grown manes of hair attesting to their youth. Humming softly to herself she leaned against the balcony to spot her twin at the far end of the garden also singing, though her instrument of choice was a cello, large enough to dwarf her.

It had been her gossip-filled maids who had explained the twins’ presence in the castle nursery when Z had caught a glimpse of them playing in the room, and inquired after who they were.
She had not recognized the children as belonging to any of the native multitudes of royalty and wondered what purpose two commoner girls had being here. So it was with that she had turned to her eyes and ears of the castle and been informed that the twins had belonged to the baker’s wife, who for so long had been barren.

“What do you mean belonged to?” She'd interrupted them, brows furrowed at hearing that.
Z had not heard that the King or Queen was in the habit of carrying children off from their parents, nor that the King secretly visited the village women for liaisons. A concerning thought if it was that,  particularly if her recent husband soon decided to follow that pattern and father illegitimate offspring. Nell, her most trustworthy of the gaggle, flapped her hand, both to quiet her and at the same time clearly dismissing the notion.

“No, no, nothing at all like that, now listen to the story or you won’t hear anything.” Nell stated, the only maid among them who had the confidence to hush the princess as if she were one of them. Z secretly enjoyed her company more than the other maids assigned to her because of it. It was with that Z silenced herself to hear the rest of the tale, which they were clearly eager to tell.

While the wife had been cheerful in expression it was her clear voice as she sang during her work that had told of her sorrow, so deep that the villagers said the bread had tasted as if it were made out of pure salt with the weight of a brick. Rumor had had it that a witch had cursed the grief stricken pair out of an ancient spite that no one could trace. It was unfortunate, Nell sighed, that not even the rumors could guess how they managed to one day lift the curse for soon after, his wife swelled with growing life.

“Just like our princess, if the Prince has anything to do with it,” Nell teased, a cheeky grin lighting up her sun-browned face “I hope the babe has your freckles, those are too cute not to pass on.” She added, at which point Z goaded her to continue the story. Only a day married and already she was expected to be eight months pregnant.

The change in both the wife and her voice was likened to an angel that permeated the baker’s home and shop.
Overnight it seemed the pastries had become like manna that not even the King’s bakers could replicate or come close to matching.
It was to the shock and awe of all the villagers, their mother and father included, when at the age of eight, the daughters had raised their voices with their mother’s as they helped her about the shop. Soon after that, business became a roaring success, as people came from far and wide to sample the blessed food and hear the haunting voices of mother and daughters.
Eventually the King, Queen and Prince had dignified the family with a visit to try the food and judge their voices for themselves. It was then that devastation struck the tiny family, when Prince Whitelaw had ordered her daughters to come live in the castle, to serve both as bakers and entertainers for guests.

“But surely they saw it a great gift from the royal family to them for the young girls to have these prized positions of not only bakers, but entertainers as well? It would spread their fame for both food and song wide.” At this, her maids shrugged and nodded, though, as usual, it was Nell who actually spoke.

“Indeed Lady Z, but it was the matter that Prince Whitelaw would not let them go home at any point. They under orders to stay here year round and it has not boded well for the rest of the castle.” It had been most irritating when, at that moment, Z had been called away for the celebration that was starting.

Not long after her escape to the balcony, the festivities were called to an end and Z gladly retired to her new bedchamber, surprised at once to see her husband was already there, pacing and clearly agitated by something.

“My liege, is something amiss?” Z inquired as she pulled the pins from the elaborate coiffure she had been forced to endure, her scalp glad to be rid of the pins, as were her feet from the fashionable heels. She felt no discomfort as she changed into her bed clothes, for Christopher had shown her he was not the lecherous rutting beast she had been warned of during her engagement.
In fact, her husband prince seemed often distracted hardly troubling her inside or out of the bedchamber.

This stemmed largely from the fact that he often disappeared into the monstrously large stone labyrinth for entire days at a time. At the question though, he seemed to come fully back to awareness though it was to rake his hands through his hair and growl

“The twins! They sing naught but sorrowful tunes. The food tastes as if it were nothing but salt and it is so dense that the King nearly cracked a tooth tonight on it! Devils they are, no fairy blood in their veins, no matter their voices. I have to keep them in the nursery so they do not ruin the entire castle!” Z gaped at the sight of her usually charming and even-keeled man, who she realized, was still much a stranger to her, despite year long engagement she had spent within the castle in order to learn and be closer to him.
Truth be told, despite the lengthy engagement, Christopher had barely become a friendly acquaintance with her during the time.  

“But my lord, you took them away from their parents. How could you not expect the children to miss their mother and father? They have only just turned eight years old.” She protested as she began to brush her short brown hair out, wondering if the nurses who looked after the twins were gentle when wielding the brush. Perhaps not if they were such nuisances to the residents. At this he gave a snort and a dismissive gesture of the hand which made her bristle.

“Every time the King or Queen left me as a child it didn’t send me into throes as these two go into. It is worse when their parents come to the parties, but it is the only way to get them to sing.”

“Then why not let them live at home Christopher? It’s clear they will cause nothing but mayhem. Besides we have no use for singers when we are not entertaining.” She added as she removed her jewelry, to find him distracted at the window as he gazed out at the stone maze. Z sighed as she went to him wrapping her arms around his bare waist, nuzzled his shoulder as she hummed a tune one of the twins had been singing earlier this evening. Perhaps he was worried she was not ready for their first night together. But instead of being calmed he tensed at the sound of her voice.

“No, the children may not go back. Let it be a lesson to them of how life truly is, not singing the day away with sweets just before bed.” Z blinked and stepped back from him, thrown by this sudden fierceness.

“Not even for your peace of mind? Did you forget they are not, in fact, your daughters?” Z couldn’t help but press, displeased that he kept this toothache of a problem, purposefully bedeviling himself. She had no patience at all with martyrs and she was damned if she would tolerate it in Christopher, not if this marriage was to be a satisfying one.

“No!” Christopher snarled as he whirled about to look at her the tanned lines of his face twisting into ugly fury. “No! I will not give them back they are mine.” So shocked was she by the outburst, that Z said nothing as he stormed from the room.

It wasn't until Christopher reached his father’s stone labyrinth, a moss and flower draped behemoth, that his composure began to slip. His tight fury was rapidly turning into a fierce grief that loosened his joints as he ran through the familiar maze, urgency goading his clumsy limbs towards what lay in the center. His desperate sprinting ended as he stupidly tripped on his own feet and fell into the muddy banks of the pond.

The sound of water parting made him look up to see eyes dancing with delight at his arrival, the crown of a head with moon white hair visible even in the dark.

“Molly, your hair!” He gasped, pushing himself up to crawl towards her, the mud cool and slick underneath his palms. A pleased chirp came from the mermaid as she swam nearly all the way onto the bank, her hair fanning out behind her as she moved. “Molly this isn’t good! You’re dying and you’re goddamned pleased about your hair!” Christopher shouted punching the mud splattering them both with the muck as he cursed angrily. A low whine brought Chris’ attention back to see she held her webbed hand out to him, his eyes growing hot with unshed tears, as he guided her hand to his face. Molly’s newly blind eyes crinkled up happily the way they usually did, her once turquoise irises now deepened to a cool cyan. A disdainful twist of her mouth made Chris chuckle unexpectedly.

“Unlike you I’ve not had the time to contemplate my hair. The twins aren’t working are they?” He asked stroking her hair in return as she shook her head. Chris swallowed his throat so constricted he found it was becoming difficult to breath. Molly realized his distress for she pushed herself back into the water holding her hands out for him so that moments later he was following after her, soiled clothes discarded carelessly behind him. Again she chirped happily before she was gliding over to him settling on his back, hands gripping his freckled shoulders. Chris couldn’t help himself, he laughed, teasing that, seeing as she was the one with the fishtail she was supposed to be the one toting him about, as he swam to her grotto. The sight of it made his heart sink to the bottom of the pond.
Molly had decorated her sunning stone with the flowers planted around the edges of the water, creating her own open coffin.

He shook his head even as she released her hold on him and reached for the stone, pulling herself up onto it. And of course Chris joined her, letting Molly nestle into his side humming along as he began to sing for her.

The ending felt like hours but was likely no more than a half hour at most.
He had known from the moment that she had let him tow her back that tonight was her last. He could guess just the effort to come meet him on the bank had allowed the wasting disease to eat the last of her resistance.
When her breath gasped for the last time, the air gone silent, he laid her gently down before he  dove into the water. Christopher had no wish to lay there there with the corpse for longer, it was not her, and it repulsed him to touch what death now had a hold of. But, no sooner had he surfaced from the water, feet coated with warm mud, than his new wife stepped from the labyrinth. Beautiful in her mortal looks, particularly those freckles, and from the shocked expression upon her face, she had witnessed it all.

“Let us go back to the bedchamber, and I will explain everything.” He wearily said wanting the few minutes reprieve to mourn his Molly. Wonderful woman that she was, she nodded and kept silent as she followed him out of the maze and into the castle.

“How long was she hidden in that - labyrinth?” Z asked, idly noting that the mermaid had been a sort of Ariadne. Christopher hesitated, rubbing his aching eyes before he answered

“Her entire life. The King found her there when I was a baby, and soon afterwards commissioned for that stone maze to be built.” Z shook her head, amazed. It seemed like father like son with holding others captive.

“So you decided you needed to do the same as him and take the twins?” Damn obeying her husband, she was not going to let him cause strife if she could prevent it. He closed his eyes and turned away from her to move towards the fire, steam rising from his damp and goosebumped skin. Before she could continue, he held up a large hand to hush her.

“Wife, you judge me harshly for matters you do not understand. If it was indeed beauty I had wanted them for, I would have collected their mother as well, for they are incomplete without her. But no, it was not wholly for the loveliness, but for Molly, the mermaid who you saw in the pond. Their voices kept the wasting disease from consuming her completely.” Z shook her head.

“That is why all the fall gatherings and our wedding were hosted outside.” She murmured, causing a wry smile to twist his lips as he dipped his head.

“Yes, and now that Molly has... passed, I will let the girls go home. Tomorrow morning I will ride down, to apologize and return them safely.” He paused, before continuing on “I know that I have not been deserving of you as my wife Z, as endlessly patient as you have been towards my distraction with Molly and my seemingly cruel possession of the girls. I promise to show you just how much of a loving husband I can be to you.” A pleased smile crept ever so slightly to his lips. “Now please, Z my love, will you join me in bed?”

Christopher offered, large hand held out to her.