Chapter 2: In Which Babiole Sulks

Of course, Bastien did nothing but assume that I made up my meeting with my so-called fairy godmother. Idiot. Did he not realize that it would be beneath me to make up something that stupid? But his reaction was just a laugh and a few quips about my poor eyesight when everyone knew I had excellent eyesight. It was times like that I wish I still bit people.

At least I was able to avoid the luncheon with Florine. Bastien had not been so lucky.

Now I must make it clear that I did not pout. I hated pouting and I hated people who did it. It was childish, even as juvenile as I could be, and was nothing anyone brought up in a royal court should do. But Bastien was one of the most frustrating humans I knew. I adored him, of course, with the sort of adoration that rose from growing up with someone. He was my best friend despite all of his flaws. And I knew those flaws all too well. Which is why I should not have been surprised when he didn't believe me.

But I was surprised, because Bastien had always been the one obsessed with fiction and fairy tales. He should have eaten that right up. Fairy godmothers. He should have been pouting over the fact that I apparently had one and he didn't, at least as far as I knew. Maybe he didn't believe me because the story had come from me. So he had done what he should have done and taken it as a joke.

Whatever I felt, I retreated to my room, furious and thinking all sorts of unkind thoughts toward Bastien.

My room was not what humans would call a room, but I didn't know what else to call it. It was a small chamber off from Queen Flore's own quarters, and just my size with a bed and washbasin and everything else a girl could want. Some people out there that thought me nothing more than a novelty would consider the space cute. But it wasn't cute. It was refined and beautiful and of exquisite taste that even a monkey like me could appreciate. I curled up on my bed and sulked. Not pouted. Sulked. There is a huge difference between sulking and pouting.

I could not figure out what my problem was. I should have taken Bastien's reaction as pure Bastien. But it wasn't every day that a girl had a tiny fairy godmother show up and maybe I just wanted to be believed.

I don't know how long I stayed there. I had never been very good at tracking time and most of my mental energy was devoted to trying to decipher just why I was so angry. But at least I pushed myself away and hunted down Bastien and Queen Flore.

It was dusk. I must have been sulking for a long time. However, it did mean I had possibly missed a painful supper with Florine's presence.

Now Florine, there was an idiot.

As luck would have it, Queen Flore and Bastien were seeing off the little lovely lady off. I hopped onto Queen Flore's shoulder and whispered "She's gone?"

The Queen did not reply. She just increased her smile a bit and continued waving at the coach making its way down the road and out of the gate, hopefully for the last time. It was only when the coach had faded into the shadows that she spoke. "Yes, she's gone. And I doubt we'll be seeing her again." She glared at her son.

Bastien laughed. "You didn't like her, either."

Queen Flore paused to consider that. "You're right. I didn't. The girl was insipid. Ridiculously so. It was all I could do not to slap her."

One could always count on Queen Flore to be brutally honest.

"Just be grateful you missed most of her visit, Babiole," she continued as she picked up the hem of dress and turned back to the palace. "Where were you?"

My turn to glare at Bastien. "Bastien upset me."

He groaned and rolled his eyes. Someone he looked so much more immature now that some possible bride wasn't hanging around. I liked him like that. It made him seem closer to the age I felt. "You're not serious about that, are you?"

I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Manners, Babiole!" Queen Flore hissed, giving my tail a sharp tug. She may be brutally honest, but she was still bent on being proper and making me be proper.

"It's just Bastien," I said unapologetically.

"She made up a story about her fairy godmother."

Great. Even Queen Flore laughed. By this time we were at the doors and the poor guards were left to wonder just why Her Majesty was laughing. "A fairy godmother, Babiole? Really?"

I should have stayed to sulk.

"It's just that it's not like you to make up such things."

"Which is precisely why I laughed at her," said Bastien.

Queen Flore stopped in the hall to examine her face in a mirror. She was beautiful, always had been beautiful, always would be. I studied my own face. I looked… like me, like a monkey. Very cute.

"So I suppose I'm confused, then," she said as she fiddled with her hair. "Babiole, did you or did you not make up a fairy godmother."

"I did see her," I said stubbornly. "She was small and had weird wings and was annoying."

Queen Flore laughed again. "I see, then. How charming. Did she grant you a wish?"

"I don't want a wish from some flying little person. And… and maybe I was seeing things."

"You're so practical," Bastien said. "It's annoying. I could have made up a much better story about a fairy godmother. She would be tall and gorgeous…"

He was going to start drooling soon, I was sure of it. I could only imagine the fairy godmother beauty he was making up in his weird mind.

"I could beat you," I said. I sprung from Queen Flore to his shoulder. "All right, I'm changing my story. She was a mercenary, hired to kill that Florine girl. She was dressed entirely in black and her stupid fairy wings were covered in blood. And they were spiky and sharp. Amazing."

"Was she still so beautiful?"

"Hideous." This was making me feel much better.

"As bad as Florine?"

"Be kind, Bastien!" his mother warned. "I'm going to bed. I hate entertaining."

"Looks like it's just you and me," I said gleefully. "By the way, I thought Florine was very pretty. You like pretty girls, don't you?"

"I already told you. She was awful." He began to walk toward his own room. "I can't believe you think I would be so shallow." His gaze lingered on a passing laundress by the name of Elle who returned his smile. Had they kissed in some closet? I was losing track of these girls.

"No, you're smart," I said. "You're just unlucky. It's your mother. It's your mother who keeps finding all these ridiculous girls for you."

"Then you should talk to her! She loves you! Seek ones I would approve of!"

"Easier said than done. They look so smart and intelligent when people speak of them. Words are terrible. So easily abused."

"Here, here." Bastien pushed open the door to his room. It was full of books and swords and all other sorts of boy things Queen Flore had allowed him to keep in there. Actually, I didn't know if she had, but she obviously didn't care.

I jumped onto the bed, tail curled around my feet. "So how was the luncheon?"

"I think she grew up in poverty. She thought everything was delicious. I think she eventually insulted the cook with insincerity. Abuse of words, just like you said."

"And what happened after that?"

Bastien laughed and collapsed onto the bed next to me. "Tennis. We played tennis."

"But you like tennis."

"I love tennis. She's never played."

"I thought everyone played tennis." I had attempted once, with a racket made for my size, but finding a partner had proved difficult.

"Not her. She apparently watches other people play."

"Nothing wrong with that. That's what I do."

Bastien was silent for a long time, his face holding back a broad smile. "You… didn't get a chance to see her before she left, did you?"

I shook my head.

"She won't be returning because she…. Sort of now has a black eye."

I gasped and punched my tiny fist into his arm. "You gave her a black eye?"

He sat up quickly, now laughing. "No! Nothing like that! She gave herself a black eye! I don't even know how she managed it. She was trying to serve and next thing I know she's on the ground screaming and clutching her eye."

"That's horrible!"

"I thought you didn't like her."

"Bastien, there's a big difference between not liking someone and wishing they were suffering in pain. Give me some credit."

"Well, I thought it was funny. I laughed. So I don't think she likes me anymore."

"Is that when she left?"

"No, that's when my mother insisted she have something to eat. By then she hated everything."

"That's because the poor girl had a black eye."

"Please, Babiole. You would have thrown a rock at her."

"That's different from laughing at an injury not my fault."

He laughed again. "I fail to see the difference. So are you still mad at me for laughing at you?"

I considered that. "No, I think I'm over that."

"You really didn't see a fairy, did you?"

I took a deep breath and considered it again. "No, I didn't. I made it up. I guess I was mad because I was hoping you would believe me and then I would never let you live that down."

"You are so weird sometimes."

"So are you."

"At least tell me what you thought of Florine. And remember, be honest."

Ooh, this would be fun. I twitched my tail, thinking of the best words to use. "She was extremely pretty, nice to look at, but lacking anything in the head. She thought I was some sort of pet. She lacked any sort of knowledge of anything. I'm sorry, Bastien, but at least all the servant girls can carry on a conversation. Most of them. You were very cutely paired with Florine, though. You looked great together."

"Thank-you. We should have had our portrait done before I shipped her off."

Eventually I left Bastien to do whatever boys did at night, in a much better mood. I guess monkeys were emotional, not that I knew anything about them. As it was, I was no longer mad Bastien and he was once again my best friend. I also had in mind to help his mother pick the worst possible girls for him. That would be a riot.

But it took a while longer than normal for me to fall asleep. Something didn't feel quite right. I couldn't decide what it was.

But something was wrong.