Page 46 of Not Another Happily Ever After

There is grief inside her that

does not belong to today.

Children chase the carriage as we pull off of the cobblestone road and onto the dirt path leading to the Disenchanted Forest, their bellies full from last night’s bountiful hunt. Upon Frog’s request, Wolfe was able to track and spear two wild boars large enough to feed the Shire. And not only just their bellies, but their spirits too.

Loud, boisterous laughter carries in the wind as I wave from the window, holding tight to the secret apple the children were all too giddy to share when they heard of my engagement to the prince.“’Tis a gift for your betrothed,”they giggled in hushed voices.

I didn’t have the heart to tell them it would wither before it reached him, or that the prince is the least worthy of their gifts. but took it anyway.

It’s a bitter-sweet feeling, saying goodbye to the people of Dire Shire. Saying farewell to new friends and kind faces. The night may have been long and the ale sour, but even amidst the ruins there was warmth. Not that you’d ever know it looking from the outside in, but the children, all singing and dancing around a dimly lit fire whilst their parents told stories of old…they are far richer than any royal I’ve ever met.

They have heart.

They have a home.

“Are you needing the bucket again, Princess?” Myrrdin asks from where he’s leaned over on the driver’s bench. He looks back at me as I watch the boys and girls blur until they’re little more than a happy memory. And remember them I shall.

“No.” I smile. “I think I’m alright.”

And this time, I believe it.

We ridethrough the unending darkness of day without stop, Frog leading the way while Wolfe trails somewhere behind. The twins, for once, are quiet behind the reins thanks to Rhidland, no doubt, who’s forfeited his horse for a seat between them.

I take advantage of the horses’ hoof beats, drifting in and out of sleep. I dream of an autumn green gaze and the scorching trail it leaves lingering on my skin. Imagining the way the grooved edges of his iron mask would feel beneath my fingers as I pull it away to reveal?—

“She’s unwell again, isn’t she?”

I startle awake and—oh, dear God, not this again!Myrrdin crouches over where I’ve fallen asleep on the recessed bench, the rusty bucket in his hand.

“She’s not sick, you daft dilly-weed!” Merrek joins us in the carriage, a grin hiking up his dimpled cheek. “She was having a dream. And a very nice one, I reckon.”

Myrrdin sits back on his heels, his concern morphing into an “oh” between his lips.

I jolt up in my seat as heat floods my cheeks. “It was not—Iwas not…”

I sound like a fish out of water, flopping around, desperate for an escape. But the best I can come up with is, “The carriage is uncomfortably warm.”

A lie of course, one the twins easily decipher between a shared look.

“You’re…warm?” Merrek smirks.

“That’s a new one. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard anyone describe the Disenchanted Forest aswarmbefore.” Myrrdin rubs his cleanly shaved chin between his fingers, contemplating the utter absurdity of my answer and it’s all I can do not to?—

Wait. Did they just say…

“Did you say the Disenchanted Forest?”

Before Myrrdin can answer, I push past them, nearly knocking them over as I clamber for the carriage window to see the “Enchanted forest.”

Or…what used to be. Towering over us are bright blue trunks with cracked and twisted branches, weighed down by the curse’s crimson-filled vines. Its roses never shed, unyielding to the forest’s other life.

“Bet you’ve never been anywhere like this before.” Merrek sidles up next to me, resting the bend of his arm out the window.

I shake my head in answer. “I’ve never been anywhere outside the castle.”

The smile falls from his lips and we say nothing as I turn my gaze back toward the remnants of a world once filled with magic.

“I’d like to see more of it, if that’s alright?”