“We will meet the one who raised her,” she went on. “Right here in this castle.”
Unaware of what his wife was really plotting, King John clapped his hands together happily. “The queen is right,” he said.
“I’m not sure her godmother will—” Phillip started.
But Ingrith stopped him. Lifting a pale thin hand in the air, she shook her head. “But I insist,” she said. “After all, we will soon be family. There is no other way.”
“The queen is right,” King John repeated. “Let it be known throughout the kingdom: My son is going to marry Aurora. And Maleficent is coming to Ulstead.”
As the king returned to his portrait, Ingrith kept a smile plastered on her face. It was just like John to take her decree and make it his own. She let him…for the moment. Soon enough he wouldn’t be her problem.
But first she had a dinner to plan. A few ideas had already come to mind. First course: polite conversation. Dessert: a hearty helping of Maleficent humble pie. And then, finally, destruction of the Moors — and every last faerie who called that disgusting forest home.
Chapter Four
UNTIL THAT MOMENT, AURORA HAD NEVER REALIZED SHE COULD FEEL SIMULTANEOUSLY WONDERFUL AND TERRIBLE. SHE WAS DREADING THE CONVERSATION SHE KNEW SHE WAS ABOUT TO HAVE WITH MALEFICENT. It made her stomach ache.
But back outside Aurora’s castle, the weather was oblivious to her inner turmoil. The sun was shining; the brilliant blue sky was unmarred by a single cloud. And for the first time in days, there were no faeries waiting on her to solve a dispute or bring light to an issue that had no solution. The only sounds were the soft breeze that sang through the trees and the voices of Knotgrass, Flittle, and Thistlewit. The three pixies were, as usual, bickering among themselves. Aurora slowed her pacing and a smile tugged at her lips. Their voices brought back many good memories — as well as a few she would rather leave behind. The pixies had been her only role models for the long years she had lived hidden in the cottage in the forest. Their voices were as familiar to her as her own, and as familiar as Maleficent’s. They had scolded her and praised her. They had raised her and guided her, just as Maleficent had.
Thinking of the Dark Fey, Aurora took a breath and resumed pacing. She fiddled with the ring that now adorned her left hand. The sight of it filled her with a happiness she could not describe. But when she raised her gaze to the sky, waiting for her godmother, that feeling faded and was replaced by trepidation.
She loved Maleficent. She loved her biting comments that were harsh because she cared. She loved the fey’s hard scowls that hid her soft heart. She loved Maleficent for all the reasons some feared her. But she also loved her because she was her mother. Maybe not biologically, but that had never mattered. Still, despite the strength of their relationship, Aurora found herself jittery as she waited for Maleficent to arrive. She had seen Diaval flying away from the willow tree after the proposal. It was only a matter of time.
As if on cue, the sky darkened as Maleficent swooped in front of the sun’s rays. Behind her was Diaval, struggling to keep up with the fey’s anger-fueled speed. A great gust of wind kicked up as the Dark Fey descended to the ground, her wide wings thrumming in the air. Knotgrass and the other pixies grabbed for a tree, trying to stay upright.
Landing in front of Aurora, Maleficent drew her wings to her back. Diaval flew to a nearby branch and settled on it nervously. The air around Aurora seemed to thicken as dark clouds rolled across the Moors. Maleficent’s emotions had always been tied to the Moors’ landscape. It was easy to see she was not pleased.
“Hello, Aurora,” Maleficent said, stepping closer. Her thick red lips glistened and her green eyes narrowed as she looked down at Aurora. Behind the fey, a small pond began to boil. “Anything…new?” The words oozed from her mouth.
Aurora took a deep breath. There had been times before when she and her godmother had not seen eye to eye. And they had made their way back together. They would do so again — she hoped. “Godmother,” she said, “Phillip asked me to marry him.”
“Poor thing,” Maleficent said, the tone of her voice implying she cared very little for him despite the words. “How’d he take it?”
“My answer is yes,” Aurora said, the words coming out in a rush.
“And mine is…no,” Maleficent countered.
Aurora lifted her head. Even though she had grown taller and stronger — and had become queen — she still felt small beside her godmother. Nevertheless, this was important — as important as the safety of the moors she ruled over. And if her godmother had taught her one thing, it was to stand behind her convictions. Putting on a brave face, she pulled her shoulders back. Then she spoke her mind. “I wasn’t really asking.”
“Nor was I,” Maleficent said, unbothered by her goddaughter’s bravado.
Aurora held back a groan. She had known Maleficent was going to be difficult, but this was ridiculous. She was acting like Knotgrass when Flittle turned everything in the cottage blue one summer — including Knotgrass’s favorite dress. “What’s next?” Aurora said, her voice sounding precariously close to a whine. “You’ll turn him into a goat? Disembowel him?”
Maleficent shrugged. “It’s a start.”
This time, Aurora held in a scream. Phillip had never done anything to Maleficent! He had, in fact, bent over backward to prove himself to the faerie time and time again. Aurora would have thought that if nothing else, his attempt to save her life years ago would have meant something to Maleficent. But despite all Phillip had done, Maleficent remained wary of him and his intentions.
As if reading her mind, Maleficent paced slowly around the young queen. Her long fingers curled over the top of her wooden staff, and her dark eyebrows rose on her pale face. “Are you aware there are faeries missing in the Moors?” she asked accusingly.
“Of course,” Aurora said, annoyed that on top of everything, her godmother would assume she was unaware of what was happening in her kingdom. She had heard the rumors. She had reassured the families of the missing faeries. She would get to the bottom of it. It was just taking time. But Aurora was most upset that Maleficent would bring that up in a conversation about Phillip. “What does this have to do with him?” she asked.
Maleficent nodded, the implication clear. She believed humans to be the cause of the disappearances. “Last I checked,” Maleficent went on, “he was human, a repellent, loathsome—”
“I’m a human,” Aurora said, cutting her off.
“And I’ve never held that against you.”
Aurora shook her head and cast her eyes downward. “Until I fell in love,” she said. Sadness filled Aurora’s face. Her godmother was wrong. Maleficent had held Aurora’s humanness against her before. Aurora couldn’t help remembering another time, long, long before, when Maleficent had cursed her — simply for being the daughter of the human who had broken the Dark Fey’s heart. Did Maleficent not see that she was punishing Aurora once again, for doing exactly what Maleficent herself had done? How was Aurora any different than Maleficent had been as a girl? True, Maleficent’s love story had ended in heartbreak. But ultimately, the story had brought Aurora and Maleficent together. True love had saved them both.
Around them, the woods grew quiet. Aurora and Maleficent looked at each other, a million words unspoken between them. Aurora saw a flash of pain on her godmother’s face and felt a flicker of uncertainty. Was the pain for Aurora or for herself? The silence stretched on as the Dark Fey seemed to lose herself in a memory. Aurora didn’t need to ask what Maleficent was thinking about. She knew. It was the same thing she had just been thinking about. Maleficent was remembering Aurora’s father, King Stefan, and his betrayal.