Lise stomped up the stairs, hoping that she would be disturbing her great-grandfather, but knowing that she probably wouldn't. She resented him, resented being here with him in the middle of nowhere, hours from any towns, miles from the nearest neighbor. Resented his silence, his grumpiness, his coldness. She resented her parents for sending her here, for the entire summer.

Her grandfather heard Lise stomping up the stairs, but left her to it. He was too wrapped up in his own little bubble of grief, too intent on the cocoon it formed around him to respond, to talk to the girl left in his care for the summer. The girl who reminded him too much of his youth, enhancing his grief and the intense pain of knowing what he had lost.

It was the summer before Lise's senior year, and she thought she was meant to be back at home, relaxing in the sun by her best friend Olivia's pool, talking about boys, and generally doing nothing much all summer break.

Instead, her parents had sent her here, to spend the summer with a great-grandfather who she barely knew, who she was sure hated her. Here, isolated geographically and technologically. You would swear he lived in like the 1990s, she thought bitterly. He had no computer, no internet, his only contact with the outside world a land line phone, and a letter box in town. And the town was so small, it wasn't even on the map. Once a week, he would drive the two hours each way, do his grocery shopping and collect his mail, returning home as silent and sullen as ever.

So, Lise stomped up the stairs to the attic of his house, trying to find something - anything - to do. She had looked at his collection of DVDs, now so outdated that she didn't know how to use the archaic DVD player linked to TV. All the movies he had were old, from like the 2020's and she thought they looked totally boring. A few of the actors looked familiar, but she assumed that it was from channel hopping, seeing snippets of classic movies on one of the golden oldies stations.

She had only been here a week, and already she was bored. And, if she was bored, unhappy, she was going to do anything in her power to make sure that everyone around her was, too.

The attic she stomped up to was littered with boxes, furniture, and dust. There were no footprints, and she could only assume that no one had been here in a very long time. She walked into the room, watching as her feet stirred up the dust, kicking it and seeing the motes highlighted in the sunlight coming in from the large gable windows.

Moving further into the room, Lise started to open boxes at random. Most were filled with old clothing, kids toys, the things that people accumulated over years of life. Her great-grandfather had lived here as long as she could remember, and she doubted that he had cleaned the attic out in that time.

As she continued into the attic, one box caught her eye. The rest of the boxes were cardboard, hastily shut up, sealed with packing tape and labelled in an unfamiliar hand. This box, about half way into the room (in the heart of the room she thought), was different. It was an old traveling trunk, made of a stamped metal, dented with use, with a curved lid, and a padlock through the latch.

Kneeling in front of the box, she felt her interest pique. She wondered what was in the trunk that made it so special, made it warrant locking. Reaching out, she tugged at the padlock, and fell back in surprise when it came away in her hands. She realised that it only looked like it had been locked.

Regaining her balance, she leaned forward, freeing the clasp of the latch, opening the lid.

The box was filled with clothing, and books. Reaching in, she picked up a bundle of books, bound together with a lilac ribbon. Looking at them, she carefully ran her hands along the spines, noticing the different sizes, colours and textures of the books. The top book was red, with a chocolate book under it. In the middle was one of two olive books, sandwiching a navy book. Some were fabric coated, others leather.

Carefully, Lise untied the ribbon holding them together. She drew the ribbon away from the books, carefully placing it in the trunk. It was old, and clearly important to someone. She may be cranky, but she wasn't heartless or careless. She gently placed the pile of books on the ground, and picked up the top book. As she opened it up, a letter fell out of its pages.

Placing the red book back with the others, she picked up the letter. One side seemed to be covered with a fairee tale, while the other seemed to have a letter written by some unknown, probably long dead hand. The paper seemed old, fragile, and so she held it carefully as she began to read.

Once upon a time, there was a prince of the great land of the South-East Teks, and a princess from the southern lands of Strailie. Their lands were very different. Both lands had very different customs and traditions. Both the prince and the princess were very young, but filled with great potential. In order to expose these two royal children to a broader world view, their parents sent them both away, expecting them to learn about other customs and other ways of viewing the world and its citizens. These two royals were expected to learn from their new foreign experiences and then come back to rule their kingdoms.

Little did their parents know, but the prince and princess were destined to meet. As they travelled through the strange new lands, they found their paths crossed for a short time. Recognising kindred spirits, the prince and princess developed a friendship that quickly blossomed into love. They spent every waking moment together, dreading the day that they must part. But knowing, accepting that this must happen, for the good of their kingdoms.

Parting was sad for the prince and princess, and both shed tears for their loss. They continued on their tours, each a little sadder and wiser. Two months after the prince and princess parted ways, the princess realised that she was pregnant. The baby was the prince's. She tried to contact him, but was unable to get any messages to him.

Without the support of the prince, she turned to her two best friends to help her through the pregnancy. When the princess's daughter was born, all three agreed that she was the most beautiful thing any of them had ever seen. A gift. These two friends became godparents to the little girl, loving her and showering her with gifts.

The princess returned home, with her baby, ready to begin to rule her kingdom. The king and queen, upon finding out about their granddaughter, were outraged. They insisted that the princess give her baby away, threatening to banish her if they didn't. Horrified by her parent's threats, the princess fled the kingdom with her daughter, running to a life that, while not of poverty, was not the decadence that the princess was used to. Her parents, realising that she had fled, striped her of her title, forbidding anyone in the kingdom to speak of her.

The princess, dethroned and without her parent's support, turned to two more of her friends. They took her in, loved her, and the baby. As the princess's daughter grew, these two friends also became godparents. So, the princess's daughter had not two but four godparents watching over her. Protecting and loving her.

The princess loved the little girl very much, and while she was sad for the loss of her prince, would not have changed anything. Her little girl was the centre of the world, the most precious thing in her life.

Pondering the words that seemed familiar, and yet foreign to her, Lise turned the page over, and began to read the second side.

My darling daughter, for your entire life, I have told you the story of your mother and father as a fairee tale, because that's what the time I spent with your father felt like to me. My very own fairee tale. When you were little, I whispered it to you every night before you went to sleep. In the last few years I haven't needed to tell you as often. You haven't needed to hear it to get to sleep anymore. But, please never forget my fairee tale. I mean every word of it. He was my prince, and he made me feel like a princess.

You truly are the greatest gift I was ever given. I would not trade your life for anything, not more time with your father, not my relationship with my parents, not even my own life if that was the stakes.

You are more intelligent than I could ever hope, more beautiful than I could ever imagine. Like me, you fast tracked through school and graduated even younger than I did. I always wondered if it was the right decision to let you do that, to deprive you of the social interaction that can only be gained from spending time with your peers. But, I should have known not to worry. I know that you may have questioned some of my decisions over the years, but everything I did, I did for you.

You willingly accepted the fairee story that I told you over your childhood, even after you stopped believing in fairees, Santa Claus, the Easter bunny and even the monsters under the bed. But I believe I owe you more.

I owe you the truth.

So, on the eve of your college education, I give you these three books.

This book contains the full story of your birth, of my life. It is unfinished, I know, but hopefully it will help answer any questions you may have. I may cross into things that make you uncomfortable, and for that I apologise. But I think that everything in this book is important for you to know, important for you to understand. None of the things this book will tell you makes my faireetale any less true. It simply gives the story more body.

This is, I understand, an unconventional gift. The red book I wrote over the last week, while the chocolate leather book came into my possession barely three weeks ago. It was written by your father. The third book, the olive one, is still blank, ready for you to fill with your life. Because you, my darling girl, are going to have an amazing life.

I start my new job today, and that means leaving you alone in this city where you don't know anyone yet. I don't want to leave you alone, but know I have to. I don't want you to have to entertain yourself in this unfamiliar place for the next month, but have resigned myself to the fact you will have to.

I just hope that these will help to fill the time.

So, my darling girl, here is the truth.

Love, forever, your mother

Xoxo

Carefully putting the letter down, Lise was confused by the feeling of de ja vue that reading the fairee tale had caused. It sounded familiar, as if she was meant to remember it. She shook her head, trying to clear the feeling. Laying the letter carefully down, she picked up the red book, the one the letter urged the unknown darling daughter, and began to read.