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“There once was a girl,” he murmured, “clever and good, who tarried in shadow in the depths of the wood. There also was a King—a shepherd by his crook, who reigned over magic and wrote the old book. The two were together, so the two were the same: “The girl, the King… and the monster they became.”
THE MAIDEN Be wary the pink, Be wary the rose. Be wary of beauty divine, unopposed. Her thorns will grow sharp, She’ll eat her own heart. Be wary of beauty divine, unopposed.
There are many different kinds of cages.
I know no one’s going to ask me what I want, the Nightmare said, snide to his bones, but just in case you were wondering, the answer is no. No, I am decidedly NOT agreeable.
Just answer the riddle, he called. What has two eyes for seeing, two ears for hearing, and one tongue for lying? When I didn’t reply, he tittered. A highwayman, darling girl.
Nothing is free, he murmured. Nothing is safe. Magic is love, but also, it’s hate. It comes at a cost. You’re found and you’re lost. Magic is love, but also—
“I tell myself I am stronger than my doubts—that I’m good. Even if it doesn’t always feel that way.”
“It’s just a flower. Flowers don’t play games.” He offered it again, once more asking my permission. “May I?”
Tell them. Tell them the truth. When your children ask, do not lie—do not hide the risk of magic. Children are strongest when their eyes are clear. Only then can they make their own choices. Only then are they truly free. Tell them. Tell them the truth.
“Are you still pretending?” I said, reveling in his gaze. Ravyn gave a surprised laugh and, in front of everyone, leaned in and kissed me. “I never was,” he whispered into my lips.
“Be safe,” I whispered to the wind as Ravyn Yew disappeared beyond the gate. Had I known they’d be the last words I’d say to him aloud, I might have chosen them differently.
“They came in the night,” we said, “the black and red horde. They burned down my castle, put my kin to the sword. The usurper was crowned, though my blood had not dried. But he did not account for the turn of the tide. For nothing is safe, and nothing is free. Debt follows all men, no matter their plea. When the Shepherd returns, a new day shall ring. Death to the Rowans… “Long live the King.”
“There once was a girl,” I said, “clever and good, who tarried in shadow in the depths of the wood. There also was a King—a shepherd by his crook, who reigned over magic and wrote the old book. The two were together, so the two were the same…” The last thing I heard before I was buried in darkness was the Nightmare’s silky laugh, wicked and absolute. The girl, the King… and the monster they became.
