Fairy tale retellings are popular, and they can go from super dark to a sweet romance. You can find them as an urban fantasy spin-off. (Think of the recent T.V. series Once Upon a Time or Once.) Over the past year or so, I’ve mentioned them a few times in my newsletter or various blog posts.
Fairy tales are time-honored stories. They are retold to each generation, and in the retelling, they have changed. The original tales are very dark, so modern society has softened them. Along with the softening, the modern tales have also changed. In most of the original tales, a woman was treated cruelly or was under a curse. She essentially waited around for a prince to save her.
I’m not a fan of the passive princess. It doesn’t fit with our modern society, and it’s not a message I want in my books. Anyone in a committed relationship would resent a partner who waited for them to do everything. So I had to make some adjustments in my retellings.
In my research, I took the basic story and pulled the common elements from various versions. I created my female main character as someone who did the saving. Though I didn’t want her fighting alone either. She fights with the love interest and other characters to save herself and her kingdom.
My first fairy tale re-telling will be coming out later this year. So check out the sneak peek below. It’ll be available soon on Amazon if you’d like to pre-order a copy.
Calliope’s bones ached. She knew this day would come. Her elven gift of foresight had shown her this on the king’s wedding day. It had been ten years, and the royal couple still had not produced an heir. Yesterday, she gathered the needed herbs from her garden and prepared the potion they would request.
Calliope rocked in her chair. The warm blaze from the fireplace did little to drive the ache from her bones. She wasn’t old, nor was she arthritic. The weight of the king’s purpose created the bone-crushing squeeze. She knew what this request would cost the kingdom. She would do everything to dissuade the king and his queen from the fertility potion.
The jingle of horse tack was faint. If she concentrated, she heard the slight creak of the carriage wheels. She stoked the fire and added a log. Why had the vision come to her? Why was it hers to carry?
She pushed up from her chair and set a kettle over the fire for tea. Until magic was performed, there was always a chance to spare the outcome. The clomping of hooves grew louder.
As a child, Calliope spent hours practicing magic under the tutelage of her parents. When she came of age in her late teen years, she’d studied under one of the strongest magic wielders in the region. At first, learning the craft fascinated her. But as her knowledge grew, so did her respect for the price of magic. If the humans only knew, only understood, they would not seek her services.
“Whoa!” As a man’s voice commanded the horses, the jingle of tack slowed outside her door.
She didn’t bother looking out the window to confirm her suspicions. She knew it was the royal carriage. A moment later, there was a sharp rap on her door. Spikes of pain shot up her legs as she shuffled across the floor.
“Curse this magic and the king’s request,” Calliope muttered. It would serve no purpose for the royal to hear her complaints. He’d get an earful of her counsel before the visit was done.
She flung her door open to the king’s compacted but well-muscled stature filling her entrance. Calliope didn’t know if his station as monarch or his confident commanding demeanor allowed his presence to fill a room. Perhaps it was a bit of both. The queen’s lean form gave her an unexpected height, even though she stood no taller than her husband. Initially, perhaps because of the king, she went unnoticed. Crowded behind the couple were the faces of the royal guard.
“Your Majesties.” Calliope bowed her head in respect. She drew her shawl over her shoulders to ward off the evening chill of spring. “Come in. Come in. I’ve been expecting you and the queen.”
The king’s guard moved to enter Calliope’s cottage, but the king raised his hand. “We will speak with the witch alone.”
Calliope hated that the humans referred to her as a witch. But that was how humans referred to all who wielded magic. They were ignorant of the truth. Besides, very few knew Calliope’s real name. She was accustomed to being called Witch.
“But, Sir!” The guard closest to the door protested and stepped forward.
The monarch raised his hand again. “She will do us no harm. This is a private affair.”
The guard bowed and stepped back. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
“You welcome us, Good Witch?” The queen peered openly at Calliope. Her eyes were wide. Her face still held youthful innocence.
Calliope stepped back from the door. “I’ve been expecting you. Come in.”
The king and queen entered. The queen’s dress was a simple pattern, but the embroidery on the blouse was intricate and detailed into numerous bunches of flowers. The king wore pants suitable for riding with knee-high boots and a shirt without a stiff collar. Both stood awkwardly in Calliope’s small kitchen. They were an odd mix of regal stances and tight eyes with slight nervous twitches. The queen twisted her gloves like she was wringing them for water.
Calliope waved to her small living room with her rocking chair and a short sofa. “Have a seat. I have tea ready.”
“I don’t think we’ll have time for tea,” the king said.
“We’ll accept whatever hospitality you offer,” the queen said.
“It’s good to know one of you has proper manners.” Calliope grabbed a thick, padded cloth. She eyed the king when she passed him, refusing to feel cowed by his position. She took the kettle from the fire and filled a teapot with a mixture of tea leaves and dried fruit. It was her concoction. A sweet citrus scent filled her home.
She set a tray with the teapot, teacups, and a few baked goods before the monarchs. “I know it has no comparison to your kitchens, but I offer my hospitality, humble though it may be.”
The queen poured a cup of tea for the king, one for Calliope, and then one for herself. Calliope lifted an eyebrow. It wasn’t often royalty served her, let alone before themselves.
“Thank you.” The queen took a sip from her steaming cup.
The king’s hand dwarfed his. He cleared his throat.
“You know why we are here?” The king’s eyebrow rose to accent his question.
Calliope nodded and blew on the steaming liquid. “I’ve seen this day. You are childless and have come to ask for a potion.”
The queen looked down. Had her bluntness unsettled the female monarch?
“I spoke too plainly. I meant no offense,” Calliope offered.
The queen’s eyes shone, and she offered a small smile. “No offense taken, but life at court is often about masking one’s thoughts and emotions. I am unaccustomed to hearing one speak so openly. Nevertheless, you have stated our purpose precisely.”
“We will pay for the potion. State your price.” The king flung the tea down his throat in one gulp.
Calliope chuckled. “The price of my potion? Do you not consider the price of magic?”
The royal couple shared a brief glance.
“What do you mean?” The king shifted in his seat.
“Magic always comes at a price. I can give you the potion, and you can pay me in gold or jewels.” Calliope shrugged. She didn’t practice her craft to become rich. She had too much respect for the working of magic to believe money could satisfy the cost.
“Then what cost do you speak of?” The queen asked.
Calliope studied her sincere face. “The question you must ask yourself is if the working of magic is worth the cost to you, and as monarchs, to your kingdom.”
“To threaten the kingdom or our royal person is an act of treason.” The king straightened.
Calliope held up her hand. “I do not threaten you. But you ask for a child, an heir. A child who is born of magic poses a strong chance of being a magic wielder as well.”
“We are accepting of magic and see no issue with this.” The king shook his head.
“A human child having magic may draw magical beasts to your kingdom, a kingdom that has been without war for centuries.”
The king waved his hand. “Then we will train and raise up soldiers to fight against any foe, great or small.”
“The king is great and speaks with confidence.”
The queen cleared her throat. “Surely, Good Witch, things can not be as bad as you speak. For no magical enemies have crossed our borders in search of the many witches who live peacefully here in our kingdom.”
Calliope wondered how much she should tell the monarchs. Witches weren’t human, at least not entirely. They were a mixed race of Fae and human or elf and human. A magic user’s ancestor left a trace of the hereditary magic and the level of magical power they carried. Calliope’s maternal side was an elf-human mix, which tended to have strong earth magic. Her paternal side was a Fae-human mix, which tended to have the ability to channel magic through objects.
“Our magic does not interest your enemies,” Calliope said as an explanation, deciding the king and queen didn’t need to know more.
“Then what threatens us?” the queen asked.
Calliope stared at the fire, longing for the ache in her bones to leave. Perhaps it would if she spoke the whole truth. And maybe the king and queen would understand the foolishness of this request.
“Dragons,” Calliope stated plainly.
I hope you liked this sneak peek of the beginning of my Rapunzel retelling, Magic Denied. Keep in mind it will go through a few more rounds of editing before its release. Let me know what you think.
K. M. Wray 