Page 38 of Wickedly Ever After
“Oh, Your Goodness!” the lady exclaimed. “I’m so glad you’re here. Please, talk some sense into her ladyship. She simply will not wear the dress the queen chose and sent as a gift this morning!”
Ida’s gaze fell on a revolting thing of pink flounces with purple petals. Annabeth hadn’t exaggerated—it was hideous and probably infested with an itching hex. “I’ll do what I can.” She paced through pillars and into the parlor.
On a solid chair of oak and gold sat the princess, still wearing her blacksmith apron and leather trousers. However, it wasn’t fair to say she hadn’t dressed for the occasion. She’d donned a mail coat and was polishing a poleax with a whetstone.
“What in the name of magic are you doing?” Ida asked.
“Preparing to rescue myself,” Amber said with a low grunt.
“Put the weapon down. You’ll cut someone with it.”
Amber squinted at Ida. “Well, you’re the first person who hasn’t said I’d cutmyselfwith it. You may have selected me for this stupid stunt but if I kill the dragon, I’ve saved myself, and that’s what I’m going to do. I don’t care if it’s against the rules. I’ll destroy this blasted tradition before I marry any prince.”
A chill ran down Ida’s spine. Hector would kill her. No dragons had died in Happily-Ever-After in centuries. There had been some maiming, but nothing a dragon couldn’t heal from.
“You’re behaving like a child,” she said, primly arranging herself on a chair out of Amber’s swing range. “Try to act like a queen.”
“I’m acting like a woman who is going to save herself,” Amber retorted.
“At what price?” Ida asked.
“What do you mean?”
“This magic isn’t a game, Amber. It’s not some foolishness you can discard on a whim. You know that, deep down. Long ago, four witches in their wisdom realized that only by coming together could people find love and peace in their lives. And so they arranged for a royal prince to marry a common princess, so that never again would the leaders of the world be able to exploit the people the way they did, turning the world into a ruin. This ‘tradition’ saved the people—it gave us this world we live in now. It gave the commoners a voice.”
“Some voice, when someone like Mildred can buy a crown,” Amber said with a snort.
Or Annabeth, but Ida didn’t budge. It was too important. “I’m not saying there aren’t still problems. Magic can’t fix everything. But when it can’t, it’s our own choices that fill in the gaps. You say you want to save yourself, and you’re willing to kill for it. Now, is that bravery, or is it plain, old selfishness?”
“I am not being selfish.” Amber rose, gripping her weapon. “I’m my father’s only child. I plan to take over his blacksmith shop when he retires so I can provide for him. What happens to that if I become queen? What happens to him? It’s been in our family for generations.”
“You’ll be the queen. You can build a house as big as a palace for your father, or he can live in the palace with you. Move the whole shop if you want and open it on the grounds. You can have anything.”
“Do you honestly think the prince will let me take out myfeelings in a smithy? Carry a hammer instead of a handbag? Shoe my own horse?”
Ida hesitated. She couldn’t see Archie understanding why anyone would want to do those things. But Happily-Ever-After would make him invested in his queen’s happiness. And Amber would care about him and his happiness as well. She’d forget her dream of owning the smithy the moment Archie saved her from the dragon and gave her truelove’s kiss. Happily-Ever-After made everyone happy. Look at Annabeth.
Well, perhaps not. Annabeth hadn’t changed much. She’d been a conniving, irresponsible, mean girl, and now she was a conniving, irresponsible, mean queen. In many respects, King Rupert deserved her.
But Archie wasn’t Rupert. He listened to people like Caedan. And if he listened to people like Amber, he might be the greatest king their world ever had.
“Have you considered how much influence you would have as queen? How much good you could do for your people? A queen is more than a figurehead. She is more than a consort to the king. Annabeth has influenced everything from the accessibility women have to magical enhancements to court fashion—not always wisely,” she added, thinking of the pink monstrosity of a dress. “But she did it because she embraced her role and used it. When she and the king step down and you and Archie take the throne, all the power to do good for the world will be in your hands.Yourworld, Amber. Think about that.”
“I don’t want that power,” Amber said. “I want to choose my own destiny.”
“In this world we very seldom get that chance,” Ida said. “But you can change the destiny of many people—including yourfather. I think he’d like you to make the most of your opportunity. After all, he’s not here with you.”
Amber’s tough façade cracked slightly. “He had to work.”
“He told you not to waste this chance, didn’t he?”
Amber blinked, and the brown of her eyes became harder and sharper with a thin sheen of tears. “How…”
“Because the same thing happened to me.” Ida crossed her legs and smoothed her robes out. “I was about your age when I had the opportunity to apprentice with the Good Witch of the North. I felt much like you do now. My stepmother was a common hedge witch, and that was my world. I didn’t want any other. I saw myself living in my village for the rest of my life, mixing medicines, performing charms for the farmers, mending relationships with magic—all small things my stepmother taught me how to do. To take the position as the Good Witch’s apprentice would close all those doors to me. If all went well, I’d be a Cardinal Witch. I would outlive everyone I knew—all my family, all my friends. I’d never fall in love, I’d never marry, I’d never have children. And I’ll admit, I had second thoughts.”
She shook her head slightly to disrupt the regrets before they settled in like an unexpected guest. “My father saw my indecision. So he took me aside and told me something that has stayed with me to this day. He said every person on this earth is like a stone thrown to make waves. Most of the time, people are little stones. The ripples they make only affect the pond around them. But some of us are big stones, meant to affect a whole ocean. What I did with my life would affect the world. He made that very clear to me in a way I’d not thought of before.”
“But you had a choice in your destiny!” Amber said. “I didn’t get one.”
