“Mistress,” he began, “I, uh, I bring some news.” He stopped and took a few quick breaths. “But before I say this news, you need to promise you won’t…execute me.”
Maleficent sneered, revealing her perfectly white teeth and the pair of small fangs that made even her nicest smile seem menacing. She knew that there were those in the Moors who believed she had gone soft when she made a human their queen. But most knew better. They knew that while Maleficent loved Aurora, she was still a Dark Fey. And no one doubted the damage Maleficent could — and would — inflict on the fools who dared try threaten her. “Tell me,” she said, losing patience with Diaval, “or you’ll wish I had.”
Gulping, Diaval went on. “It’s nothing of consequence, really, no reason to overreact.” He paused, realizing his voice sounded as shaky as he felt. He had known Maleficent far too long. There was no chance she wouldn’t overreact to what he was about to say. “It’s just that Prince Phillip has—”
“Leprosy?” Maleficent interjected hopefully.
“No, mistress,” Diaval said, shaking his head. He tried again. “Phillip has—”
“Black plague? Yellow fever?” Maleficent asked.
“Mistress,” Diaval said, growing exasperated. His next words came out in a rush. “Prince Phillip has asked Aurora — and here’s the part where I’m going to remind you not to kill me — asked her if she will become his…”
Maleficent’s face somehow became even paler. It turned out there was something that could get between her and Aurora: Phillip.
As Maleficent lifted her head, her green eyes bored into Diaval. “Don’t ruin my morning,” she warned.
Around them, the wind picked up — slowly at first, but then it whirled faster and faster. The air crackled with electricity. The sky turned darker as Maleficent spread her wings. A storm was brewing. Then, without another word, she took off into the air.
Diaval shivered as he watched her go. “You’re taking this incredibly well!” he shouted. A moment later, there was a flash of green as he transformed back into a bird and followed her into the sky.
Phillip couldn’t stop smiling. Aurora had said yes! For days he had been nervously planning and thinking, worrying and hoping. And now it was over, and everything had gone perfectly. Well, except for the whole part when she fell into the pond. But still. She had said yes. She had said yes even before he could properly ask. And they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. He thought his smile couldn’t possibly get wider, but then it did.
Phillip’s horse galloped through the main gates of Ulstead, and he rode toward the castle. It loomed large, its huge white facade sparkling in the sun. The two towers that dominated the building rose high into the sky, their tips appearing to vanish into the clouds. Everything about Castle Ulstead was big, lavish, and ornate. The village that lay at its feet mirrored the wealth of the castle in its own way. The buildings were smaller and their sides were more muted than the blinding white of the castle, but they were strong and well built. The roads Phillip’s horse now cantered over were smooth, and the people he passed looked healthy and happy.
Phillip slowed his horse to a walk when he spotted Percival waiting for him in the town square. He and Percival had grown up together and remained friends — despite the fact that Phillip was a prince and Percival was now a general in Phillip’s father’s army.
“So, tell me, sire,” Percival said when Phillip arrived. “Will I be the best man? Or did you choose a filthy creature from the Moors?”
Phillip’s eyes darted toward his friend. The young general did nothing to hide his hatred of the Moors and any creature that made the place its home. Despite his open, kind face, Percival had a dark and angry streak when it came to the Moors. Phillip could usually just ignore the man’s opinion, but every now and then, Percival said or did something that crossed the line. In those moments, Phillip did his best to keep his mouth shut and his hands by his sides. But every so often Percival found himself at the end of Phillip’s sword and would, for a good length of time after, be sure to temper his tone.
“General,” Phillip said now, trying to keep the conversation on lighter — happier — ground, “if you’re asking if she said yes—”
Percival cut him off. “Oh, I know she said yes,” he said. “What human wouldn’t want to escape that place?”
“What do you have against the Moor folk, Percival?” Phillip asked. He was not in the mood for Percival’s sour attitude. Not that day. Not on the day of his engagement to the woman he loved, who ruled over those very folk Percival showed such hatred for.
Percival didn’t answer right away. Instead, he scowled and kicked his horse’s sides. It was time to go. Together the two men moved through the square and toward the castle. “Moor folk?” Percival repeated. “Is that what we call winged beasts and murderous trees?”
Phillip frowned and gave Percival a warning look. “You mind your tongue, General,” he said. “You know nothing about them.” Percival’s opinion was based on tales and adventures he had not participated in. He had not been part of King Stefan’s battle. He had not been there to witness the atrocities committed by the humans against the faeries. Yet like many others, Percival believed that the exaggerated stories were true — and that evil lay outside the human heart instead of within it. To him, Maleficent was a monster.
Percival went on. “I know Maleficent is a killer of men. Destroyed half an army by herself—”
“She’s not like that, General,” Phillip said, coming to the defense of the Dark Fey. He almost smiled. His future mother-in-law, if that was what he could call her, would have laughed at hearing him defend her. She barely acknowledged him when they did interact. And when she did, it was usually to ask if he was feeling well — with the obvious hope he wasn’t.
“It’s my job to protect this kingdom,” Percival went on. “And I’ll do so, old friend — without hesitation.” Once again, he kicked his horse and galloped forward, leaving Phillip to follow. Behind him, Phillip sighed, some of his earlier happiness fading. He and Aurora were sure of their love for each other. They had spent hours daydreaming about uniting their kingdoms and showing both faerie and human that they could coexist. But the road to that unity was going to be bumpy. Phillip knew Percival wasn’t the only one who wouldn’t be happy about his engagement.
Clucking at his horse, Phillip trotted toward the castle and his parents with butterflies in his stomach. They, too, were sure to have strong reactions to his news.
King John longed to stretch. He had been sitting for hours on his throne under the weight of his ornate coat and heavy crown. At his wife’s request, a fur blanket — with the animal’s head still attached — was draped over him. And he held a long scepter. The throne, uncomfortable on a good day, felt like it was stabbing into his backside after hours and hours of posing for his royal portrait.
But he would do what he must to make his wife happy.
Noticing movement from the corner of his eye, King John smiled — but only slightly. He had already been reprimanded enough by the artist. “Ingrith,” he said in greeting. “You’re the only one I can trust. Be honest — how do I look?”
The queen stepped farther into the dark room. Even without light to illuminate her skin, it glowed the same color as the moon. Her dress clung to her body, accentuating her thin frame, and her blond hair, nearly white, was pulled back tight to her scalp. Her eyes, as she scanned the canvas, were cold. It was she, not the king, who looked like a piece of art. A cold stone statue.