The grand ball is truly a princess’ ball. No expense was too great and no guest casually dressed. Colored fairy lights drift above to light every crevice in the lively and vast room. Music, food and drink drift throughout freely and plentiful while gloved hands take in everything offered to them. The king and queen converse with guests near their thrones while a maid bends over the royal cradle. All are festive and joyous, but along the edge of the room within the privacy of an alcove, the seven fairies huddle together speaking in hurried whispers.

Second holds out her fist with seven wooden sticks tight in her grip. “Alright now, remember the rules. No matter what lot you pull, you keep. No trades, no begging, and no do-overs!”

To her left, First shrugs and asks, “Why not just go in order.”

Seventh scoffs at that. “Convenient for the first in line!”

Fifth giggles behind her fan crafted from pages of an old book. “Oh, I’d love to see what you’d come up with Seventh.”

“Oh!” Fourth pipes in. “Like that prince she gave the gift of clean cloth!”

Seventh lifts her nose, slightly miffed. “Well, that king was revered for his clean image at all events.”

Third and Sixth share a look and smartly keep their thoughts to themselves.

“Enough now,” Second says. “We must hurry up. Everyone make your choice.”

Everyone pinches the tip of a stick.

“On the count of three we pull. Ready? One, two, three!”

Each of them inspect their stick with a different number of painted rings. Seventh stares, horrified at her stick with seven colored rings. “What miserable luck!” She cries.

Fifth peeks over and stifles a giggle. “The poor princess!”

“Hush,” Sixth says while motioning with her eyes. “Look, the king is standing. It’s time to present our gifts!”

They pick up their skirts and tails and make their way to the thrones where they stand before the cradle in their predetermined order. The king and queen sit in silence but with a smile on their lips. The queen, tall and elegant, watches on with the same honey brown eyes as the portrait of the old king hanging on the wall behind her.

Third is the first to step forwards, pushing her round glasses up with nervous hands as she does so. She waves her hand over the cradle and presents her gift. “I bestow the princess the gift of beauty.”

Hidden by the applause Seventh mutters to Fifth, “What an obvious gift.”

Second is second, her movements more confident and assertive. “I bestow the gift of goodness.”

All the fairies take their turn and every gift is followed by applause.

First: “I bestow the gift of grace.”

Sixth: “And I bestow the gift of dance.”

At the word “dance,” Seventh’s eyes light up. “Dance? Then I’ll give her the gift of song.”

“I bestow the gift of song,” Fourth says.

Fifth giggles, cut short by Seventh’s pinch to her arm. Scowling, Fifth quickly rubs her arm before straightening her posture and expression to step up for her turn. “I bestow the gift of wit.”

“They left me with nothing once again,” Seventh laments. “Looks like I’ll have to go with…”

The merry guests all go quiet and in the silence a heavy set of boots push through the crowd. The queen frowns seeing an attendant make his way to her to whisper something in her ear. Her gaze suddenly flickers up to the main entrance and Seventh follows with her eyes but is unable to spot what she does from her raised seat.

But soon the crowd begins to part, guests gasping as Mal, in sweeping black clothing, comes before the queen and king. Some of the fairies give Seventh a curious look but Seventh has no explanation. She can only witness with a pale face.

With learned poise Mal takes an elegant bow, eyes flickering to the portrait for a second before speaking with a pleasant smile on his lips. “What a wonderful ball you’ve thrown.”

The royals share a frightful look before the king responds. “It is a pleasure…that you have been able to make it.”

“It seems my invitation was lost.”

The smile fails to reach the queen’s eyes as she says, “Y-yes. Allow us to prepare you a seat.”

An attendant hurries to the fairies’ table to set down plates and silverware at the fairies’ table and although they are gold they don’t glisten with the same radiance.

The king wrings his hands. “The cook roasted the meat with exotic spices from—”

“I bring a gift,” Mal cuts in.

Murmurs wash over the guests like a wave tinged with curiosity but the queen does not allow relief to overtake her. Instead she maintains her cautious pleasantries upfront and says, “My, how generous of you.”

Seventh, however, knows better. “Oh no…” she whispers. Dread squeezes her chest tight and she hopes that Mal is not as unforgiving as she believes.

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“Yes.” The smile doesn’t leave Mal’s face. “To celebrate the birth of the princess, and the continuation of your wonderful bloodline. It’s a gift that her great-great-grandfather once bestowed onto me.”

This time Seventh attempts to get to Mal, shouting, “Mal! Wait a mome—”

Mal pulls out the bound piece of wood and tosses it onto the floor. It rolls, the sound echoing in the now silent room. Everyone watches it until it comes to a stop. The thread pulses a soft glow.

When Mal speaks again his voice booms throughout the entire castle, vestiges of his curse like spiders in each person’s ear. “I bestow an ending. By the night of her sixteenth birthday, before the dawn of a new day shines, she will prick her finger on a spinning wheel and die!”

The wood trembles, cracks crescendoing into an explosion of black rose petals that rain down in the entire room. Everyone feels the wicked curse beneath their skin and shudders as Mal grins at the display of power. Then Mal laughs as justice at last is in his hands. The people snap into movement, dashing for the edges of the room in fear of the petals’ touch. The queen jumps to her feet and though her command is swallowed by cries her finger pointing at Mal is enough. Guards rush forward with swords in hand but at the first strike Mal’s body bursts into rose petals.

Mal can’t stop laughing as he suddenly appears back in his cave. Candle flames waver with his abrupt return. “I did it! I really did it! For ignoring me, for neglecting me, it’s what you deserve. The mighty king Phellious must be rolling in his grave! Oh how alive I feel.”

Humming, he picks up a shade and twirls, dancing to his own tune. More shades gather around, lifting their arms up to be his next dance partner.

“Now, now. The night is long and the party young. Everyone will get a chance!”

The front door suddenly bursts open and Seventh storms in. Her elegant gown embroidered with flowers by Mal’s own hands is bunched in Seventh’s trembling with rage. “Mal! What have you done?”

Mal continues dancing, spinning faster as the shade in his arms squeals with delight. “Has the party ended so soon?”

“With the dreadful air you left behind? Ugh, no.” She pinches at her forehead. “I didn’t come to talk about that. Show me your roses.”

Mal freezes mid step and whips his head towards her. “No.”

“I knew it! You went and pulled out a rose. You know how long, how much effort, it was to nurture them! And you rip one out for…for…this curse! “

Sensing the argument the shade wiggles out of Mal’s arms leaving Mal free to stomp to Seventh. “You think I wanted these roses? Or this body? They had it coming.”

“But not at your expense!” Seventh drops her head into her hands and takes a long breath before making her confession. “I undid it.”

Anger drains from Mal’s face and he bites at his pale lip. His hand slides up to his stomach to the hollowed dirt his rose once lived. “What?”

“I had yet to bestow my gift.”

His hand trembles and he grips at his robe. Then what did he rip out a rose for? What could fill this void in him if not revenge? If she undid it, it was almost like Seventh had ripped out that hole in him. He thought she understood him and how much pain those of the royal family had given him. “You…why?” His voice quivers, unable to convey his hurt through words. “You said you’d be on my side.” He stumbles back a step. “But even you as well—”

“The princess will prick her finger on a spindle,” Seventh says, raising her head. “I could not change that. But instead of dying she will sleep for a hundred years.”

“A hundred years,” Mal echoes. His body goes still and his arms drop at his side. There are too many emotions that he goes numb to try and process what she said. No, the princess won’t die, but sleep instead.

“I hoped that would be enough for you.” Seventh closes the space between them and takes Mal’s hands in hers. A gentle smile rises on her face, partly pleading, partly stern. “Forget about humans. They are so fickle and young and so full of destruction. We aren’t prosecuted only because we gift them our magic. But you…” She squeezes. “they will never let you heal.”

Mal slips his hands from hers only to throw them around her in a tight embrace. Seventh is the only one capable of healing him and her alteration only proves it. This is the justice the royals truly deserve and Seventh understands that. She understands him. “You are the only one who still loves me!”

Her hot breath tickles his neck as she scoffs. “My Darling! Are you forgetting about the others?”

“And why are they not here?”

“You know how they are; the less involved in human affairs the better. Ah, but Fifth sent a message.” She pulls back and clears her throat to emulate Fifth’s haughty tone, “I applaud you for your dramatic entrance and stylistic choice of wardrobe.”

“Oh, she liked it?” Mal smooths down his clothes and spins to get another inspection of his outfit. “I wasn’t sure if my waistline—”

“Not the time Darling. You all need to hurry up and pack!”

Picking up on her urgent tone Mal stops, hands slightly up in preparation for whatever came next. “Pack? What for?”

“You think the queen will do nothing? She’ll send even the stable boys after you.”

Mal frowns and cocks his head in befuddlement. “But that’s not how curses work. Even if I die or they burn every spinning wheel in the land, somehow, someway, a spinning wheel will find its way to the princess.”

“You think humans so rational. If you say you can't undo it they’ll kill you anyway and search for another solution.” Her voice softens with pity. “It’s all they can do.”

“Well, yes, but,” Mal spreads his arms out to indicate at all of the shades that have gathered around them, “where do I and my twenty-three children go?”

Similarly Seventh gives them all a look over. Transporting and rehoming a family of twenty-four, twenty-three of whom once terrorized humanity, is not going to be so easy to accomplish. Seventh could take them in but her gardens are much too close to human towns. If one of her business partners sees them it’d be all over. Florists are big gossipers after all. “The mountain,” Seventh says after a moment of thought. “That will have to do while I search for something more permanent. And please keep your children under control.”

It is Mal’s turn to scoff. “What sort of parent do you think I am?” He claps his hands twice to get the shades’ attention. “We are moving! I need you each to pack only what you need. If you can’t carry it then you can’t take it. And I will say this now: we can’t take the swing, and no live animals. And don’t leave out your brush to fit your shiny rocks! Understood?”

The shades cry in unison and dart off to pack. One shade carefully packs a teddy bear while another stuffs shiny rocks into every available pocket. Mal goes around his room looking at each tapestry, blanket, and embroidered decor that had been tossed aside for later without a thought, not knowing it wouldn’t be picked up again. He goes through his clothes and packs simple clothing but when his fingers touch a certain red outfit he can’t pry them away.

Seventh comes up behind him and her eyes light up with recognition. “And here I thought you didn’t like that color. That dye was a tough one to get.”

Mal runs his hands over the soft, unworn fabric. The red is vivid like roses in full bloom. Similar to the cloak he once made for a young prince and he hates remembering him. “I’ve never looked good in red,” he says. “And there hasn’t been a special occasion for it.”

A firm hand rubs his arm before it reaches past him to pull out the outfit. “Darling, you don’t need some special occasion. Wait too long and you’ll find it ruined by moths. Wear it once you have settled into your new home. I’ve exhausted my magic but I will try to salvage what I can.” She folds it with care and passes it over to Mal.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Darling. I will always be on your side.”

END SCENE