Chapter V
"My daughter said she spoke with you, Charlie."
Scott, Carol, and Bernard, who had all missed out on this news, turned sharply toward Charlie.
"Uh . . . Yeah. For a few minutes."
"May I ask for your impression of her?"
"She . . . She was nice."
It would have been more convincing if his voice hadn't gone up in pitch.
"Nice?" asked Scott. Then his eyes widened. "Nice. Bernard, can you find her on the list?"
Scott, with his special Santa abilities, could have known about her with a glance . . . if she'd been standing next to him. Without knowing her, he had to rely on the paperwork.
The head elf exchanged wary glances with his queen.
"She's only been on the list once."
"Once? On the nice list?"
"No. On the list. She wrote a letter that year, and got herself on the nice list. Other than that, we don't have any record of her."
They all thought for a moment, and then Carol asked, "Can we see it?"
"What?"
"The letter. Do you still have it?"
"We keep all the letters, but . . ." Bernard looked at his queen questioningly.
Mab smiled and said, "That's all right. I'd like to see it also."
He nodded shortly and left to retrieve it from the files. When he returned, he cleared his throat and read it aloud.
Dear Mr. Santa Claus,
If you really are Charlie's daddy, please make him love me. (Bernard covered a chuckle with a cough.) If you make Charlie love me, I will love him too, forever, and be nice, but if you don't, I don't care if I'm naughty.
I hope you are Charlie's daddy.
-Melody
P.S. Don't tell Charlie I love him, or I will be really naughty.
Carol couldn't hold in her giggles any longer, and, except for Charlie, they all started laughing – even Queen Mab. Charlie looked amused, but annoyed.
"Why didn't someone tell me about this before?"
"You heard, Charlie," Bernard said, fighting a smirk. "She said if we did, she'd be really naughty. We couldn't be the cause of that."
Charlie rolled his eyes, scowling, but Scott looked to Bernard questioningly.
"Why don't I remember that letter?"
"It was during your first year – you weren't even fully Santa-fied yet when it came."
"Oh . . ."
"I don't think she wants to marry me, your majesty," Charlie said seriously, not looking at Fia's mother.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Why would you say that, child?"
He frowned, thinking. "It's just . . . I'm pretty sure she hates me."
"Did she not say with her own lips that she has felt for you since Kindergarten?"
"Kindergarten feelings aren't real feelings, they're – Wait, how'd you know she said –"
Mab looked away, shrugging and smiling indulgently.
"Whatever," said Charlie, struggling not to roll his eyes. "It doesn't really seem like she wants anything to do with me, so I'm out, okay? Sorry."
"What?"
It was the first true emotion any of them, save Bernard, had seen on the Unseelie queen's youthful face.
"She seemed more upset that you'd asked me . . . that . . . than that you'd told me she liked me. I don't really think she does anymore."
"I know very well she does. Do you doubt my words?"
Rock. Charlie. Hard place.
Charlie glanced at Bernard, who sighed heavily.
"Your highness, I do not doubt that Charlie has the utmost faith in your honesty. I believe it is himself he does not have confidence in."
"I see. Well. I will allow you time to rethink this foolish decision. Santa. Mrs. Claus."
Without an appropriate taking of leave, the Queen swept out of the room, Bernard hastily following after when she glanced his way. He escorted her to her room again, following her in, locking the door, and following her over to the bed. He had the feeling that this was about to turn into-
"Bernard," she cried, throwing her arms around him and pulling him down onto the bed with her. "What am I going to do if he says no?"
"Er, sorry, but, he did say no."
"He could still change his mind."
"He won't."
"Really?"
"Really."
Real tears welled up in her eyes and he felt his chest surge. Oh no.
Her bottom lip started to quiver. His eyes darted around the room seeking out every possible escape.
Then she bit her bottom lip. Ooh. His eyes transfixed on that lower lip and the room suddenly felt about ten degrees hotter.
Then her eyes hardened. Oh no.
"Then we'll just have to make him change his mind."
"Fia?"
She was wearing jeans and a zip-up hoodie today, and her was up in that messy bun again. It was one of the reasons he'd been able to recognize her.
Apparently now that she'd shown herself, she'd be visible to him all the time. When she looked over at him, that thought seemed to occur to her, and her face turned scarlet. She lifted her hand in a slight wave, but she seemed to be trying unsuccessfully to melt into the wall.
Charlie walked over to her anyway, certain that she'd feel better once they talked.
"Hey, I just wanted to tell you, you shouldn't worry about your mom anymore."
She blinked at him, her huge green eyes wide. "Huh?"
"I told her no, so you don't have to worry about it anymore, okay? I'll leave you alone, and you can pick whoever . . ." Charlie trailed off as he realized that she was staring at him not with happiness, but with a mixture of horror and tears. "I mean, isn't that . . . what you wanted?"
She blinked at him again, then turned and ran. He stared incredulously for a moment at the spot in front of him where she'd been standing, then looked the direction she'd run. The corridor was empty.
She really had to stop doing that.