or cracks. The straw didn’t even blister them. How did you spin it into gold?”
I didn’t answer.
He leaned closer, his foul breath puffing into my face. “The king demands to know.”
Actually, the king was humming and winding thread from his thumb to his elbow. It was no wonder, really, that the miller’s daughter never told him anything.
Haverton tightened his grip on my arm. “How did you do it?” Then again, just because the miller’s daughter never told the king about Rumpelstiltskin, that didn’t mean I shouldn’t. Perhaps if I veered from the story script now, I would get a different ending.
Of course, it might be a worse ending. It was hard to judge what King John would do since, at this point, he seemed completely fixated on creating a golden cocoon around his arm. I swallowed hard. “I’ll tell you the truth if you promise not to hurt my family.” My answer only made Haverton squeeze my arm harder. “You shall tell me the truth regardless. Now.” I held firm. “My father hasn’t lied, spoken treason, or refused to pay taxes.”
Haverton pulled me a step closer. “You silly girl, no one cares about your father, but I’ll have my men drag him here in shackles if you don’t speak at once.”
I didn’t have a choice. I spoke. “A man appeared in the room last night and told me he was my fairy godfather. He spun the straw into gold so you wouldn’t kill me. It wasn’t my doing at all, so there’s no use keeping me here in the castle. I don’t have a magical gift.” Scowling, Haverton let me go. I rubbed my arm where he had squeezed it.
“Haverton!” King John called.
150/356
I looked at King John to see his reaction to my confession, but he still wasn’t paying attention to me. He had somehow managed to tangle the thread around the broach at his neck and was struggling to free himself, one-handed.
Haverton went to his side, wrestling with the thread to unsnarl it.
“Our heart’s love not only made the gold too heavy,” King John said, “she made it too unwieldy. She must do better tonight.”
“But didn’t you hear me?” I asked. “I don’t have any magical gifts.”
King John smiled warmly. “Your modesty does you credit, my dear. You have a magic godfather and that is gift enough.” He held his cocooned hand out to me like he was asking me to dance. “Tonight you shall stay in a bigger room with more straw. When your fairy godfather arrives, you shall beseech him to spin it into lighter gold.” Unable to free the king from the golden tangles, Haverton took out a knife and cut through parts of the thread. This allowed him to slip the bulk of the golden jumble off the king’s arm.
King John stretched his fingers. “And if your fairy godfather doesn’t appear, my love, well, ’tis no great inconvenience to execute you tomorrow instead of today. We are nothing if not flexible.” I let out a horrified gasp. Despite his terms of endearment, I was still a prisoner with a death sentence. Telling King John the truth hadn’t made one bit of difference.
King John walked over and patted my shoulder. “No need to fret,” he said cheerfully. “Your fairy godfather won’t let you come to harm.” He kept patting. “Although one can never tell with fairies. They’re such flighty creatures.” He put his hand to his chest and chuckled. “Fairies are flighty creatures. What witty wordplay.” Haverton laughed along. I didn’t.
151/356
King John turned to Haverton and eyed me severely. “I say, the maiden has a rather dour temperament.”
“You just threatened to kill me,” I pointed out.
“Business, my dear.” He motioned to Haverton. “We have decided not to carry the gold ourselves, so you must find someone who’s trustworthy to move it to our rooms.” He paused. “When we say our rooms, we actually mean my rooms. None of the gold is to go to your room.” Haverton bowed. “As you say, sire.”
“Feed the girl and …” King John glanced at my jeans and T-shirt disdainfully. “Give her a proper dress to wear.” He waved a finger toward my head. “And have one of the chambermaids do something with her hair. It looks like she’s slept in a haystack.” With that, he turned and walked from the room.
• • •
Two guards took me to the kitchen for some food and watched me from the doorway while I ate. The kitchen was a welcome change. It smelled like spices, and the fireplace not only housed a cauldron, it warmed the room as well. Several servants worked at the long wooden table where I ate, some chopping vegetables, some kneading dough, and a couple plucking chickens. There’s nothing that will dampen your appetite quite like watching someone pull the feathers off a dead bird, but still, I ate. I’d hardly eaten anything the day before.