A Thief of Nightshade(42)

But by the end of the meal, she grew sad and knew that her father would be broken-hearted to find her missing, so she excused herself without saying goodnight to the King and demanded the guards take her back to the prison.

“The next evening, the King waited but the princess did not ask to see him, nor did she the next night or the next, until finally the King asked the guards to bring her to him.

“When they did, he saw that the she did not eat or drink anything that he had sent to her, nor had she put on the pretty dress he’d had stolen for her from her father’s kingdom. ‘My sweet princess, why won’t you eat or drink anything?

Surely you hunger and thirst?’

“She did not respond, but walked around the room instead, sweeping her fingers across the metal sculptures. This displeased him, but not wanting her to leave, he walked around the room with her, winding through the statues like a game of hide and seek. After a few moments, his playful mood caught on and he lured her into a great game of chase; hiding from her one moment and trying to find her the next. After a while, the princess began to feel quite dizzy and weak and gave no fight when she was found. This worried the King and he pleaded with her to eat something.

“‘I will not eat until I may see my father and tell him that I am all right, for I know in his grief he is neither eating nor drinking.’

“The King thought about this, but wasn’t willing to lose her. ‘I will let you write a message to him, so long as you don’t tell him where you are. I will have it taken to your father so that he will not worry. If I do this, then will you eat and drink something?’

“The princess wanted more than just a letter sent to her father, but she feared for his heart and so she wrote the letter, and as she promised the King, she both ate and drank when she was through.

“The next evening, when the princess again did not ask to see him, he went down to the prison himself and spoke to her. ‘You are freezing down here. I have had a room prepared for you, but you will not take it. I have brought you dresses from your father’s kingdom, yet you stay in wet rags. You tell me that you are not cold, but you are shivering.’

“She looked up at him from where she sat, her knees hugged to her chest. ‘I will not leave this awful cell until I may see my father and tell him that I am all right, for I know in his grief he is not at rest.’

“The

King

grew

angry

then,

frustrated with her for not seeing how generous he had been, and stormed out of the prison. He told the guards to douse the lights and leave her in the worst cell for the night.

“But his anger did not pass as quickly or as easily as he thought it would and he did not remember to tell the guards to light the torches the next morning, or the next and for five full days he kept the light from her. On the eve of the fifth day, as he was watching the embers of his fire glow, he felt his anger melt away and he suddenly feared for what he had done. So he leaped from his throne and lit a torch as quickly as he could, making his way through the mud and mire, unattended by the guards or his servants. Finally, at the coldest, darkest part of the underground prison, he found her crumpled in a heap at the door to the cell.

“He kneeled to cradle her in his arms. Her skin was colorless and cold, her body no longer shaking from lack of warmth. When he spoke to her, she did not stir. Fearing the worst, he pressed his hand to her chest and, to his surprise, found a heartbeat. But its strength was not great and he knew not how to help her, so he brought her back to the throne room and wept.

“His subjects heard him weeping, so they came to see what had so saddened their King. He showed them the princess and the very best doctors and the very best metal workers and the very best sculptors came to look at her and see what was to be done, and there was only one thing he could do; piece by piece, the young princess was replaced by parts fashioned from the Goblin King’s hands. Her eyes he made of the deepest jade, her hair of spun silk. Little by little, everything but her heart was made new and this pleased the King very much, for she was now truly his and would never leave his side. But as soon as he woke the princess up from her slumber, certain that she would thank him for what he had given her, she touched his face with her wintry metal hands and leaned up to whisper in his ear the very important message she had promised him the evening they had first met. ‘I would have loved you,’ she said and died of a broken heart in his arms.”

Aubrey didn’t realize she’d had her hand over her mouth, but when he stopped talking, it fell into her lap. “Hansel and Gretel creeps you out? Oh my God, Jullian.”

He shrugged. “I never said it had a happy ending. Besides, wasn’t one of your papers about The Maiden With no Hands?”

She actually hated that faerie tale.

“Okay, weeping on bloody stumps, as Grimm put it, is a tad less poetic than the Goblin King falling in love with a princess. But still, ugh. And this one amuses you?”

“It does, for some reason. I suppose it’s the idea of the goblins having a human king that does it; it just wouldn’t happen.”

She laughed, “Oh, it’s not the jade eyes that seem surreal, or the complete and utter lack of medicinal probability.”

Jullian kissed her forehead and temple. “Of course not,” he said.

“Oh, before I forget, did you get Grant’s message?”