Aurora smiled but her eyes continued to roam the area, searching for Pinto. True, seeing Phillip was a pleasant surprise, but with the Moors turned to madness and a castle full of complainants, she didn’t have the time to spend with him or to wonder why he was acting strange. She had work to do. The peace she had promised moments earlier could only be made with action — and she could not bring action if she was searching all over for a wayward hedgehog faerie.
Still scanning the ground for Pinto, Aurora decided to do both at once. “I wanted to ask you something. Do you think there could be a union? Between Ulstead and the Moors?”
“A union,” Phillip repeated, his voice catching in his throat. “Do I—”
Aurora cut him off. “Yes. I’ve been imagining a bridge. To connect the two lands.”
“Oh, a bridge,” Phillip said, once again repeating her words. “Yes, a bridge is a wonderful idea.”
“Oh, good. I’m so glad,” she said as she finally turned her full attention to the prince. Then her eyes narrowed and she cocked her head. She had been so caught up in her own drama that she had failed to really look at him when he had appeared. But there was something about Phillip’s presence — and his outfit — that gave her pause. “Wait,” she finally said, “that’s your formal coat.”
As her heart began to beat faster, she looked around. The willow tree. The warm, romantic canopy. The pixies’ odd behavior and Pinto’s race through the woods. Phillip in his formal coat…He was going to propose!
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep in the squeal she wanted to let out. “You’re in on all of this, aren’t you?” she said, her voice trembling. She wiped at her dress, wishing she hadn’t taken the tumble into the water.
“If you’re busy, I could always…” Phillip started, his voice teasing.
“No!” Aurora said, shaking her head. “Not busy at all.”
“Because I’d hate to take up your precious time….”
Aurora wanted to hit herself upside the head. Why had she gone on and on about her stupid day? “All ears,” she said, smiling encouragingly. “What did you want to talk about?”
Phillip stepped closer. The smile on his face faded and he grew serious, his eyes full of emotion. The world seemed to slow as he stopped in front of her. “Five years ago, I thought I lost you forever,” he said. He took her hand and squeezed it gently. Both of them remembered when she had nearly died and what they had almost lost. Opening her palm, he gently ran a fingertip up her finger, stopping at the dark red scar that would forever be a reminder of when she had pricked her finger on the magic spindle. When he looked up, Phillip met Aurora’s gaze. “I’ve decided to reclaim this day for us. I have loved you since the moment I met you….”
If she had had any doubt that this was a proposal, it vanished. Aurora’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered.
Phillip laughed lightly, bringing levity to the serious moment. “I haven’t even got to the good part yet.”
“I think it’s pretty good,” Aurora said softly.
Phillip reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a small box. “There is no magic, and no curse, that can ever keep me away from you, Aurora.” He paused, and then, his eyes filling with light and love, he teased, “Are you sure this is a good time? I could probably…” Aurora shook her head, and Phillip kneeled down. “Will you marry me?”
The words were barely out of his mouth before Aurora let out a loud “Yes!”
“Yes?” Phillip asked, though her answer had been perfectly clear.
Tears of joy falling down her cheeks, Aurora nodded. “Just stand up and kiss me,” she said.
Phillip didn’t need to be told twice. Rising to his feet, he pulled Aurora to him, and as his lips closed over hers, the willow tree exploded into a riot of brilliant colors. Flower faeries, having waited patiently for Aurora’s response, flew into the air in celebration. Aurora didn’t even notice, lost in the kiss — and in the love she felt for Phillip. She hadn’t known, until the moment he asked, how very deep and true that love was. They had been through so much together. And now they had the rest of their lives for many more adventures.
Hearing sniffles, Aurora finally pulled free of the kiss. Looking toward the sound, she laughed as she saw the three pixies hovering in the air. Knotgrass’s cheeks were stained with tears of joy as she clasped her hands. “We’re having a wedding!” she cried.
Beside Aurora, Phillip nodded. But then his expression turned serious. “Of course, we have to tell our parents.”
Suddenly, the warm and fuzzy feeling that had been flooding Aurora’s body dimmed. She imagined the look on Maleficent’s face and shivered. “Do we?” she asked. As if on cue, there was a loud caw. Looking up, she saw a large black raven take flight from a nearby branch. Diaval. The bird was no doubt flying to tell Maleficent the news. He had always been the Dark Fey’s eyes and ears.
Even so, Aurora knew she would have to tell Maleficent the news herself — eventually. While it was tempting to hide in the canopy of the willow tree forever, she took Phillip’s hand in hers, and they headed back to her castle. She would use their walk to prepare herself for what Maleficent might say. She had a feeling it wouldn’t be “congratulations.”
Chapter Three
MALEFICENT STOOD ATOP THE HIGH CRAG. THE SHEER, FOREBODING ROCK MONOLITH WAS THE HIGHEST POINT IN THE MOORS. FROM IT, MALEFICENT COULD LOOK OUT OVER THE ENTIRE KINGDOM. Although she was welcome in Aurora’s castle, she was more comfortable here. On the crag, she was alone and free from the incessant chatter of the other faeries.
As the only one of her kind, Maleficent had never had the camaraderie that came with growing up among others like oneself. She did not understand the faeries’ need to constantly check in with one another or tell each other about their days. She preferred her solitude. And if she was being honest, she knew that most of the faerie folk were fine with that. She had earned her reputation as a strong and fierce Dark Fey the hard way — through war and violence. Even now, years after peace had come to the Moors, that reputation hung over her. Her presence still often made the smaller, more lighthearted faeries nervous.
In truth, the only one she had not grown tired of was Aurora. The girl, who was more daughter than friend, never ceased to amaze Maleficent. She was never bored with or weary of her. When she was around Aurora, she never felt uncomfortable or self-conscious about the huge wings and dark horns that were hers alone. Maleficent could spend hours with her, wandering the Moors, delighting in how the girl still found such joy in every corner of the kingdom. The love that had grown between them was stronger than ever, and it was made even greater by all they had overcome. It seemed there was nothing that could break their bond.
Hearing the familiar sound of flapping wings, Maleficent waited as Diaval, her trusted raven and companion, landed behind her. He squawked.
“What?” she asked. She twirled her hand, and a small flicker of green magic flew out, transforming Diaval from bird to human.
Maleficent raised an eyebrow. The man looked terrified. He was often skittish and a little bit flighty — an effect of spending more than half his life in bird form. But the fear she saw now was unusual.