Buttercup brushed her long, beautiful blonde hair and gazed in her
mirror at the bed behind her that held the two greatest loves of her life -
her husband, Westley, and daughter, Lily. Lily's long blonde curls and
soft blue eyes made her look just like her mother, but her father was
reflected in her round, short nose, and strong, sweet chin. Westley had
his hand on his daughter's as he slept. Buttercup smiled. They looked so
peaceful, asleep in the soft orange light of the rising sun. She rose and
walked to the window. Regretfully, she drew back the nearly sheer white
curtains that shielded some of the light coming through the cracks in the
closed shutters. She then unlocked and opened the shutters, light flooding
into the room, causing the sleepers on the bed to stir. Buttercup gently
kissed them both on the cheek to wake them up.
"Good morning, precious," she said to her golden-haired daughter. Lily threw her arms around her mother's neck and said, "Good morning, Mummy."
Westley sighed and opened his eyes. He smiled at his two beloveds in a warm embrace. When Lily had let go of her mother, Westley reached up and put a hand on his wife's cheek. She smiled as he rubbed her cheek with his thumb.
"Good morning, darling," he whispered. She kissed his thumb. He settled back in the covers a bit and said, "Could you bring some breakfast we could share in bed?"
Buttercup smiled at him. "As you wish," she said, taking Lily by the hand and leading her out of the room. Westley watched them go with a smile.
Buttercup lead Lily into her room, pulling off the five-year-old's nightgown and replacing it with a pretty, light blue gown. She laced her squirming daughter's shoes and tied her garters. Then she carefully brushed and curled each individual curl on her head, and then knelt in front of her on the bed.
"All right, you little ragamuffin, go play." Lily leapt from the bed and rushed out of the small house. "Don't stray too far from the house!" Buttercup called through the window.
She proceeded to gather eggs from the hen house and brought a pail of milk in from the cow. She made scrambled eggs and sausage from the links she had bought in the market the day before, keeping it chilled in a bucket of ice. She carried a tray with food for two into the bedroom, adding a touch with a pink carnation from the vase in the hall.
"Mmm, that's my sparrow," Westley said hungrily, "I was beginning to think you'd left me for the milkman, darling."
"Why would I ever do that?" she asked, pulling the tray back. He pulled it to him.
"Because," he said, biting into a sausage, "You'd never have to milk a cow again. Isn't that one of life's little luxuries?"
"Not having to milk a cow?" she asked, almost laughing.
"Well, yes. You see, the rich have others to do things for them. I thought if you marry me, which you already have, you would never have to hunt in the forest for poor, innocent beasts."
"Stop, that's horrid!"
"Then, if you married the milkman, you'd never have to milk a cow. And if you married the milkman, why wouldn't you marry the dairier, and you'd never have to make butter, gather eggs, or work otherwise?"
"Oh, Westley, stop, you're trying too hard to be funny and it's not very amusing."
"As you wish." They smiled, and kissed.
Outside, unbeknownst to her parents, little Lily had wandered too far away from their farm. She was playing with tadpoles down by the river that ran through the woods next to their property, when a man came quietly up behind her, casting a shadow over her. She turned around and looked up at him.
Lily smiled at his blonde curls just like hers, and his gray eyes. "Hello," she piped, picking up a tadpole and holding it out to him. "Would you like to play?"
The man smiled wickedly. "No, little Lily, I would not like to play."
A shrill, piercing scream filled the air. Buttercup and Westley snapped their heads toward the window. They stared out of it for a moment, then looked at each other. No words were said, they just threw back the covers and ran outside.
"Lily?" they called, "Lily?"
"Go search by the barn," Westley called to Buttercup, "I'm going down the hill to the meadow."
Buttercup frantically began to search around the barn. "Lily?" No one was there. She could hear Westley's cries faintly, and decided to go look down by the river, where Lily liked to play with tadpoles.
"Lily?" she called into the woods around the river, "Lily? Darling, if you're hiding, this is not a funny game anymore!"
Suddenly, she came across a piece of light blue cloth, lined with lace, and a piece of petticoat. Next to it were a pair of large boot prints, and alongside those was a piece of gold.
"Westley!" Buttercup screamed as she tore across the hill and toward the meadow. Westley reached her before she could go all the way down.
"What is it?" he asked. She was out of breath and could do nothing but point. Westley followed her finger, and saw exactly where she was pointing to. He kissed her cheek and said, "Meet me back at the house."
He raced off to the river, and found what Buttercup had seen. He gently picked up the cloth from his daughter's dress, examined the footprints, then picked up the gold coin.
It was typical kingdom currency, with the picture of the king engraved on it. But on this piece, an arrow had been carved, pointing to his face, and the word "Me" had been cut into the gold, so the arrow was connecting, "Me," and the king's face. Westley threw the money down in disgust.
"Humperdink."
"Good morning, precious," she said to her golden-haired daughter. Lily threw her arms around her mother's neck and said, "Good morning, Mummy."
Westley sighed and opened his eyes. He smiled at his two beloveds in a warm embrace. When Lily had let go of her mother, Westley reached up and put a hand on his wife's cheek. She smiled as he rubbed her cheek with his thumb.
"Good morning, darling," he whispered. She kissed his thumb. He settled back in the covers a bit and said, "Could you bring some breakfast we could share in bed?"
Buttercup smiled at him. "As you wish," she said, taking Lily by the hand and leading her out of the room. Westley watched them go with a smile.
Buttercup lead Lily into her room, pulling off the five-year-old's nightgown and replacing it with a pretty, light blue gown. She laced her squirming daughter's shoes and tied her garters. Then she carefully brushed and curled each individual curl on her head, and then knelt in front of her on the bed.
"All right, you little ragamuffin, go play." Lily leapt from the bed and rushed out of the small house. "Don't stray too far from the house!" Buttercup called through the window.
She proceeded to gather eggs from the hen house and brought a pail of milk in from the cow. She made scrambled eggs and sausage from the links she had bought in the market the day before, keeping it chilled in a bucket of ice. She carried a tray with food for two into the bedroom, adding a touch with a pink carnation from the vase in the hall.
"Mmm, that's my sparrow," Westley said hungrily, "I was beginning to think you'd left me for the milkman, darling."
"Why would I ever do that?" she asked, pulling the tray back. He pulled it to him.
"Because," he said, biting into a sausage, "You'd never have to milk a cow again. Isn't that one of life's little luxuries?"
"Not having to milk a cow?" she asked, almost laughing.
"Well, yes. You see, the rich have others to do things for them. I thought if you marry me, which you already have, you would never have to hunt in the forest for poor, innocent beasts."
"Stop, that's horrid!"
"Then, if you married the milkman, you'd never have to milk a cow. And if you married the milkman, why wouldn't you marry the dairier, and you'd never have to make butter, gather eggs, or work otherwise?"
"Oh, Westley, stop, you're trying too hard to be funny and it's not very amusing."
"As you wish." They smiled, and kissed.
Outside, unbeknownst to her parents, little Lily had wandered too far away from their farm. She was playing with tadpoles down by the river that ran through the woods next to their property, when a man came quietly up behind her, casting a shadow over her. She turned around and looked up at him.
Lily smiled at his blonde curls just like hers, and his gray eyes. "Hello," she piped, picking up a tadpole and holding it out to him. "Would you like to play?"
The man smiled wickedly. "No, little Lily, I would not like to play."
A shrill, piercing scream filled the air. Buttercup and Westley snapped their heads toward the window. They stared out of it for a moment, then looked at each other. No words were said, they just threw back the covers and ran outside.
"Lily?" they called, "Lily?"
"Go search by the barn," Westley called to Buttercup, "I'm going down the hill to the meadow."
Buttercup frantically began to search around the barn. "Lily?" No one was there. She could hear Westley's cries faintly, and decided to go look down by the river, where Lily liked to play with tadpoles.
"Lily?" she called into the woods around the river, "Lily? Darling, if you're hiding, this is not a funny game anymore!"
Suddenly, she came across a piece of light blue cloth, lined with lace, and a piece of petticoat. Next to it were a pair of large boot prints, and alongside those was a piece of gold.
"Westley!" Buttercup screamed as she tore across the hill and toward the meadow. Westley reached her before she could go all the way down.
"What is it?" he asked. She was out of breath and could do nothing but point. Westley followed her finger, and saw exactly where she was pointing to. He kissed her cheek and said, "Meet me back at the house."
He raced off to the river, and found what Buttercup had seen. He gently picked up the cloth from his daughter's dress, examined the footprints, then picked up the gold coin.
It was typical kingdom currency, with the picture of the king engraved on it. But on this piece, an arrow had been carved, pointing to his face, and the word "Me" had been cut into the gold, so the arrow was connecting, "Me," and the king's face. Westley threw the money down in disgust.
"Humperdink."