Ch. 4

Glissa was listening in from the butler's pantry, a small nook that led to a staircase down to the scullery. The door of the pantry was cracked open slightly and she peered in at the dining hall, at the Blue Fairy who hovered so nonchalantly over the table. She had been in awe at first, smiling slightly at the beautiful creature, but with her ominous warning—that Miss Belle would have to give up little Rose or else—Glissa put a hand over her mouth to cover a disgusted gasp.

"Get out." Rumpelstiltskin said to the fairy.

"There's no other way," she insisted.

"Get out!" he yelled once more, his voice booming throughout the hall.

"How can you suggest such a thing?" Maurice said. "It's insanity!"

"I gave up one child before, I will not do it again!" Rumpelstiltskin said.

"Then the child will be lost," the Blue Fairy said, her voice getting more desperate with each breath. "She will be safe in this new land, you have my word. The child will return on her sixteenth birthday and the kingdom will—"

"Sixteen years?" Belle cried. "She'll be away from us for sixteen years?"

Glissa felt a tap on her shoulder. Maureen, an elderly maid from the kitchen, was beckoning her. "What're you doing up here, lass?" She tugged on Glissa's arm and led the young woman downstairs to the scullery.

"They want to take away the baby!" Glissa whispered.

"Nonsense," Maureen said as they wound down the spiral stairs. "The Lord and Lady would never let that child out of their sight."

Glissa begrudgingly followed the old maid into the sweltering scullery, where at least ten women were preparing that night's dinner of wild turkey, custard, potatoes, and baskets of green vegetables. Glissa wondered if Miss Belle and her husband would even have an appetite tonight after the Blue Fairy's grave news.

The other young maids were curious about what Glissa had heard. She told them of the Fairy's portent and the women gathered around her curiously, asking questions as they shucked corn and plucked fowl.

"Was she a real fairy?" red-headed Annika inquired.

"What are the master and Miss Belle going to do?" Gaenor asked as she busily washed fruit for the baked tarts.

Young Briony, who was Maureen's only daughter and just on the cusp of sixteen, tugged on Glissa's sleeve. "You don't think The Guild will really come to the castle, do you?" she asked, her gray eyes wide and troubled.

"I don't know," Glissa said. "If the Blue Fairy is right—"

"The Blue Fairy is full of stuff," Maureen said loudly. She threw a copper pot into the stone sink for washing, the metal clanging loudly and causing the ladies to jump. "She's just trying to frighten us. Ain't nothing of it, lasses."

"But Mum—"

"Get back to work, Briony," Maureen commanded. "And that goes for the rest of you!"

The ladies dispersed, whispering amongst themselves. Briony stayed behind and murmured in Glissa's ear, "What if the fairy is right? What if The Guild comes here?"

"Don't worry," Glissa whispered back. "The guards will keep us safe."

0000000

After dinner, Glissa went upstairs to the nursery and saw Miss Belle in the rocking chair, holding her child and staring out the window. Glissa couldn't tell for sure, but it looked like the young mother had been crying.

"Miss?" Glissa asked, entering the room. "Are you all right?"

Belle turned her head and Glissa could see that, yes, the Lady of the house had spilled tears. The baby slept silently. "Glissa, I'm scared."

The maid went to Belle and knelt beside her. "Don't worry, miss. Rumpelstiltskin will protect little Rosie."

"It's not just that," Belle said. She looked down at her daughter. "What if we do let Rose go? What if I don't see her again for another sixteen years?"

"That won't happen—"

"I'll miss everything!" Belle cried, her voice a strained whisper. "Her first words, her first steps, the first dance she ever takes—"

"Belle, stop!" It was the first time Glissa had used the Lady's common name since before she was married to Rumpelstiltskin. "The child is safe. Any man here would gladly lay their life down for her."

Belle shook her head. "I don't want that burden. To decide whether men live or die on account of my child . . ." She looked down at little Rosie again. "It's too much."

Glissa lowered her eyes. "What did the fairy say, exactly? Where would the child go? How would she even get there?"

Belle stared sadly out the window. "Through water. All she said was that Rose would exit through the spring and return in the summer."

Glissa stared at the child. It was all so cryptic, so mysterious. The baby looked as ordinary as any other child in her mother's arms—small and warm and content. Golden light or no, Glissa could hardly believe little Rosie was capable of anything other than a burp or a smile.

A hand rapped on the door. Glissa turned and Rumpelstiltskin was in the doorway, his eyes weary and his face twisted in concern. Glissa stood and bowed respectfully. "M'lord."

Rumpelstiltskin looked at his wife, then back at the maid. "Can you give us a moment, please?"

"Yes, Sire." Glissa gave Belle one last reassuring smile, then left the room for the maid's chambers.

Belle stood as her husband neared her. "Well?"

"We still have Maurice's guards watching the castle, but the men in town were reluctant to join."

"Just as well," Belle said bitterly. "Less lives to put on the line."

Rumpelstiltskin sighed. "Darling, The Guild will not penetrate this castle."

"You don't know that, okay? You can't say that!"

"I know it," Rumpel said, taking his wife's shoulders, "because I've ordered it. Others might not want to help me, but they want to help you and the baby. They're loyal to you. They'll risk their lives for the baby, not because they're ordered to, but because it's the right thing to do."

Tears welled in Belle's eyes. The baby squirmed in her arms and gave a howl. "I cannot lose her," she whispered. "Not now."

Rumpelstiltskin pulled Belle into an embrace, the child between them kicking up a fuss. He kissed her head and stroked Rosie's hair. "Nothing will happen. I promise you."

Belle sniffled and looked up at her husband. " 'Exit through spring and return in the summer.' It was prophesied."

"Prophesies change."

Belle looked at her daughter. "I hope you're right."

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By nightfall, the entire castle had heard of the Blue Fairy's prediction through word-of-mouth and whispers throughout the corridors. The maids, especially young Briony, fretted at the omen and kept a watchful eye on the guards as they did their chores. Calden had volunteered for the night's watch, decked in the silver armor of Lord Maurice's knights, and stood at the watch tower of the castle by the gates. Glissa brought him a draught of wine in a sheepskin canteen for the cold.

While Miss Belle was bathing and Rumpelstiltskin was speaking with Lord Maurice in the great hall by the fire, Glissa tended to Rose. She swaddled her in fine silk blankets with her name embroidered in red and tickled her chin. The child was the spitting image of Belle already, with bright blue eyes and a sharp nose. Glissa played with the opal ring on her finger as she wiped the baby's face with a cool cloth. The flecks of color in the white stone shined brightly in the candle light.

A sudden pinprick of terror gripped Glissa's heart, an image of the child lost and alone in another world. If there was even a kernel of truth in the fairy's words, then perhaps Rose really was destined to be taken to a new land, to return on her sixteenth birthday with no knowledge of her mother or father. Sadness washed over her heart like the ebb and flow of an unruly tide.

Glissa went to Belle's vanity desk. In her marble jewelry box, there were rings and long chains of gold that Rumpelstiltskin had spun for her. Glissa took a chain that she new Miss Belle wouldn't miss and unclasped it. She took her opal ring off and slid it through the chain.

The baby fussed on her changing table and Glissa hovered over her with the necklace. She put it over the child's small head and tucked the ring in her blankets. "There, little Rose," she whispered. "It'll give you courage."

The baby gurgled in response.

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The next morning, it seemed the entire castle was fatigued from a night of restless sleep. Everyone wondered if and when The Guild would strike, and when morning came without interruptions, a collective sigh of relief was exhaled.

Glissa followed Briony and Maureen to the spring a few yards down the hill from the castle. There was a bushel of blueberries around the spring, a small waterfall babbling fresh water and tall pines surrounding them, filling the air with a fresh, clean scent. Briony had discovered the spring when she first came to the castle a few days ago, but only told a select few about the beautiful oasis.

Maureen washed clothes on the rocks of the water as Briony and Glissa collected berries in wicker baskets. The sun shone brightly through the trees and birds sang lovely tunes for their mates. In a place as gorgeous as this, Glissa wondered how anything bad could ever happen.

"How is the master and Miss Belle doing?" Briony asked.

"As fine as to be expected," Glissa said from the other side of the bush. "The master won't let that poor child out of his sight."

"As he shouldn't," Maureen said from the water's edge.

Briony rounded the blueberry bush and put the basket on her hip. "Mum, I thought you didn't believe in the fairy's words?"

"Aye, love." Maureen wiped her sweating brow with the back of her hand. "But if there was a chance someone might want to take you away, I'd hold you close, as well."

Briony smiled and looked over her shoulder at Glissa. "Mum's not as hard as she looks, eh?"

"You're lucky," Glissa said. "Wish I had someone who cared about me as much."

"You've got Calden," Briony said, turning back to the blueberry bush. She leaned in and whispered to Glissa, "Heard the men of the night watch speaking this morning. Said Calden might propose soon."

Glissa looked at her friend, her eyes wide. "They said that?"

"Aye. Gave him grief for it, too. But he don't care." Briony touched Glissa's arm. "He loves you, Gliss. You're the lucky one."

Glissa smiled and nudged Briony. They continued picking berries, filling their baskets with the seemingly endless supply of fruit. After a while, when Maureen finished washing her clothes and started to wring them out, she said casually,

"Wonder what that means . . . 'exit in the spring.'"

Glissa turned her head and looked at the old maid. "What?"

"The fairy's words. Heard the other girls talking about it . . . 'Exit in the spring and return in the summer.' Whatch ya think that means?"

Glissa's eyes slowly traveled to Briony to gauge her reaction. "I don't know," she admitted softly. "It's all gibberish to me."

Briony set her basket down and rolled up her sleeves. "I think the fairy was wrong," she said. "If The Guild wanted the baby, they would have taken her by now."

"Hold your tongue!" Glissa yelled.

Maureen and her daughter looked at Glissa, who never raised her voice above a whisper in the time they had known her.

"Beg pardon," Briony said. "I was just saying—"

"Don't 'just say' anything," Glissa snapped. "The master and his wife are torn up about all of this. Imagine they wanted you, instead."

This made Briony quiet. She lowered her head, embarrassed, and picked up her basket of berries. "Sorry." She turned from the bush and followed the trail back to the castle.

Glissa watched her, guilt piercing her heart, and nearly called out to apologize.

Maureen gathered her bundle of wet laundry and slung it over her back. "You'll do good not to talk about my daughter like that," she said to Glissa. "I've already lost her father. I don't know what I'd do if I lost her."

Glissa pursed her lips and picked her wicker basket up from the ground. She followed Maureen back to the castle silently. In the scullery, the maid's were whispering excitedly amongst each other.

"What's going on?" Glissa asked.

"There are more guests here for dinner," Annika said. "Snow White and Prince Charming have just arrived!"

To be continued