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Little One
I awoke in the Queen’s bed the next morning, and my heart stalled in my chest — panicked I’d be in trouble when she awoke and found me there. I’d never slept in her bed, and I’d never seen anyone else sleep there, either. Anyone who remained in her chambers overnight was bound. Always.
I was sliding off the mattress, intending to curl up on the floor at the foot of her bed, when she grabbed me around the waist and pulled me to her.
“Where are you going, my little Tabby girl?”
“I must’ve fallen asleep in your bed, my Queen. I was moving to the floor.”
“If I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be, Little One.” She brushed my hair from my face. “There’s much to talk about with you today, and I’d like to go over as much of it as possible in private.” She sighed and let me go. “Hellfire. We’re going over all of it in private. Ring for the maid and let her know we’ll be taking our breakfast in here, please?”
Something wasn’t right. She’d asked me, and used please. My heart fell to my stomach.
“Have I done something to displease you, my Queen?” It was a risk to ask before I followed orders, but she’d asked me instead of ordering.
“No, but others in my queendom have, and my sister is making sure they suffer the consequences for doing so.”
“Your sister is helping you?” Everyone knew the Summer and Winter Queens hated each other.
“She’s in charge of the queendom right now, so it’s her responsibility to deal with miscreants. She isn’t doing it as a favor to me, but because it’s the right thing to do.”
I requested breakfast of the maid at the door, and went to my knees when I approached the Queen’s bed again.
“Oh, Little One, you’re such a treasure, but I need to explain some things. Come back to bed so I can hold you while we talk.”
I’d never been in Her Majesty’s bed when not being used, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t remember being in it the night before, and assumed I’d been unconscious.
Now, she put me on my back, looking up, with Her Majesty lying on her side, her head propped on one hand while the other rested on my belly.
“We have people who watch the maternity wards at hospitals in the human realm, so if someone is born with Fae characteristics and can’t pass as human, they’re brought to The Summerlands. Your biological parents were told you died, and shown a fake dead baby created by magic on this side. Unfortunately, when you were brought over, rules were skirted. Your paperwork says the searches for your family were done, but it turns out, they weren't. You should’ve never gone into the slave market.”
“I have family? Can I meet my parents?” I’d been told I hadn’t been able to survive in the human world, and no family in the Summerlands had claimed me, so I was a slave. As I’d grown older, the other halfling slaves had said we had Fae families, they just hadn’t wanted to take responsibility for the product of their dalliance in the human realm. I was a slave and there was no way around it, but I’d wondered what it might be like to have a family, back when I was too young to understand the futility of such thoughts.
Later, when I’d been sold the first time, I’d learned I was only a quarter pixie, and not even a halfling. No wonder my family hadn’t wanted me.
“You can’t go to your parents, Little One.” Her Majesty seemed so sad, and I was sorry I was causing her grief. Before I could apologize, she continued. “I don’t know if they’re still alive or not, but if they are, they can’t know you didn’t die at birth. However, you know you’re one-quarter pixie, which means you have a pixie grandfather. He long ago went into the human realm and impregnated your human grandmother. She didn’t know what he was and thought he came to her in a dream. Her son’s hair was close enough to the human shade of red to pass. His ears were pointed, but your grandfather arranged for them to be cut and magically healed when he was only a few hours old, so the boy could remain with his mother. Your grandfather had no idea his human son had impregnated a woman, so he didn’t know to check on you when you were born.”
She touched my hair, twirled it around her finger, and let it go. “Your biological mother’s hair is light blonde — it made your red brighter and must have brought out your yellow.”
Had the Queen seen my mother? Or had she been told? So many questions swirled in my brain, I didn’t know what to ask. Mostly, I was terrified, because my beloved Queen was so sad.
Her Majesty lifted my hand and stroked my thumbnail. “Who knows what genetic soup made the purple and green nails skip your father but come out in you, but these nails are a trademark of your family. I saw them and had someone double-check, but your paperwork showed the search had been made and no family claimed you. However, your great-uncle saw you with me a few weeks ago, and started a search. Your grandfather then went through the proper channels to claim you. They’ve documented the trail from your grandfather to you, and magic has confirmed the relationship. As of this morning’s sunrise, you’re free, and your family is coming to get you today.”
I think she expected me to respond, but I couldn’t. Tears filled my eyes and spilled over, and I wanted to tell her she couldn’t send me away, but I was smart enough not to tell The Dark Queen what she could or couldn’t do. Still, she couldn’t. I belonged to her! I didn’t want to go with strangers. My heart hurt at the thoughts of losing my Dark Queen. Tears flowed, and I couldn’t stop them.
When I didn’t say anything, Her Majesty continued. “I arranged yesterday’s activities for two reasons. I wanted to give you a proper goodbye — one last hurrah before you became a free woman. However, the most important point is that the money you earned last night is yours. It’s more than most people make in five years, and will support you while you figure out what kind of job you’d like and get whatever education you’ll need. I’m certain your grandfather will provide for you as needed, but I want to send you out into the world with your own assets, my darling little Tabby girl.”
She caressed my cheek and smoothed my hair. Tears flowed from my eyes and down my temples, and I know she felt the dampness in my hair, but she didn’t mention it.
“The moneys earned by the prisoners and ponies will go into a trust fund. You’ll receive it on the summer solstice that marks five years since you arrived at my castle.” She leaned in and kissed my right cheek, wet from my tears. “You’ll receive this second trust fund once you’ve had enough time to be properly educated and figure out who you are as a freeperson. You’ll be able to purchase a house and start just about any business you choose.”
“No!” I’d never said the word to her before, never refused an order, but it came out now and I wasn’t sorry. I sat up, and tears streamed down my face until both cheeks were wet. “I’m yours, my Queen. I belong to you! I don’t want my freedom!”
She sat and faced me. Her face showed grief, and she didn’t seem even a little angry at my outburst. “My darling Tabby-girl — I gave you a name so you will always be mine. You can visit me, and perhaps someday you can be mine behind closed doors, but you aren’t a slave anymore, Little One.”
Her words slammed into my chest, into my soul. Whatever a freeperson in Faerie names, they own forever. I’d been numbered, and called by a physical attribute, but no one had named me. No one had wanted to own me forever — not until Her Majesty. She couldn’t send me away! I loved her so!
“That’s why you named me? So I’d have a name before my family came to get me?”
“I planned to give you a real name once I was reigning Queen again, so I could put more magic into the name and the ceremony. However, I hastened my timetable so I could be the one to name you, before your family claimed you.”
“But I want to be your artwork, your thing of beauty, your property, your slave! If I’m free, I can’t be yours!”
Suddenly, I realized I wasn’t bruised and didn’t hurt. My cunny had been torn last night, and I didn’t feel it at all. My rear entrance should’ve been raw and on fire, but it was fine. I looked down and didn’t see any whip marks or bruises.
“You healed me.” It sounded like an accusation, and I rushed to say, “My Queen, I’m sorry, I’m just... I don’t know what to say, or think. This is too much!”
My heart stilled, and I looked at my forearm. My magical tattoo was gone. The world stopped for me, in that moment. Life no longer had a purpose. She’d forsaken me. I didn’t belong to her anymore. My heart shattered in my chest and grief threatened to drown me. I couldn’t breathe, and the room swam.
Maids arrived with our food, and I went silent while they set everything up. Showing insolence in private was bad enough, doing so with an audience was unthinkable. The maids moved as if everything was normal, as if my world hadn’t just ended. I felt as if I’d been implanted into a horrible nightmare from which I couldn’t escape. Air filled my lungs again, and I wished it hadn’t. Life would be easier if I could just stop breathing and fade out of existence.
When they left, Her Majesty told me, “If you want to please me, Little One, you’ll leave with your family without kicking up a fuss. You won’t tell them I’ve given you your own funds, and you’ll be happy to meet your blood relatives. I’ll send a guard with you, to keep you safe, and I’ll get feedback from him as to what he believes their intentions are. I believe they truly want to welcome you into the family fold, and are horrified someone with Amethyst blood running through her veins has suffered a life of slavery. If I discover their purpose is to whore you out, or if I hear they aren’t treating you well, I’ll remove you from their custody. However, if they become your family and come to love you over time, I’ll be happy for you.”
My tears flowed again, and choked me until I could barely breathe. I could only get a few words in between my wracking sobs. “You know I’ll do anything you ask of me, Your Majesty, but please don’t ask this of me, my Queen.”
Her Majesty looked away, but not before I saw immense sadness written across her face. When she looked back, I softened my voice and repeated, “I love you, Your Majesty, my Queen. Please don’t ask this of me.”
“Oh, my beautiful, perfect, little one. I know this is hard, but it’s for the best.” She stroked my arm and kissed the top of my head. “My sister has stepped in and decreed you get your freedom, but I’d have made the same decision if I were the reigning Queen. It isn’t about what I can legally get away with, but about what’s right. If the proper procedures had been followed when you were first brought to The Summerlands, you’d have grown up with your family.”
She cradled my cheek and forced me to look at her. “Your family, Little One. I need you to experience what it means to be part of a loving family. You say you’ll do anything for me? Give them a chance.”
She didn’t let go of my cheek, and I finally gave as much of a nod as I could without dislodging her hand, and said, “Yes, my Queen.”
“I’ve had a trunk with clothes and books taken to the front of the castle, so it can be loaded onto your grandfather’s carriage. You’ll find instructions to let you know which shoes to wear with each outfit, so you won’t have to decide.” She glanced at the door and back to me. “The suitcase at the door has an outfit and some shoes on top. You’ll take the suitcase with you, and you’ll put the clothes on. Now.”
She’d chosen a pretty summer dress for me, but I wasn’t used to wearing clothes. I picked at my food when we finally sat down to eat, but thankfully she only insisted I drink my juice.
I cried when Nissa came to get me from the Queen’s bedroom, and cried even more when Her Majesty teleported us to just inside the castle’s immense front doors. I’d never gone in or out these doors. Only free-people enter and leave through them. Slaves may pass through while helping a freeperson, but not when arriving or exiting. Slaves must be processed through the side door, where guards can make sure the paperwork is handled. Slaves are delivered and sold. Deliveries never happen through the front door.
“Goodbye,” I told Nissa with a hug. “You’ve been a valuable friend. Thanks so much for everything you’ve done for me.” Nissa was a slave, I could thank her without the land recording it. Slaves can’t owe anything to a freeperson, because slaves aren’t people. I was a freeperson now, and Her Majesty had warned me against using words or phrases so Faerie would record a debt.
“Take care of ye self,” she said, and she hugged me back. “I’m happy for ye. Life’s different for free people, and ye’ll need time to get used to it. Ye have family who wants ye. Let them help ye.”
I stepped out of the ornate front entryway of the Winter Queen’s palace for the first time, looked to the fancy carriage waiting below, pulled by the most beautiful, majestic horses, and I turned to go back in, but the guard behind me, carrying my suitcase, blocked the way.
“Down the steps to the carriage, Miss Winter, Ma’am. I believe the tall gentleman is your Grandfather.”
Being called Ma’am made me freeze. This guard had used me more times than I could possibly count, and now he was calling me Miss and Ma’am. The pieces of my shattered heart rattled in my chest, slicing me in new ways. Having the guard with me didn’t mean I’d still be used by Her Majesty — not even by proxy.
I’d arrived through a side delivery gate, and was leaving in a carriage with a member of the Queen’s personal guard to keep me safe. How does a freeperson walk? I hunched my shoulders in as I walked down the stone steps, but in a fit of rebelliousness I stood straight, pulled my shoulders back, and decided to walk with poise and grace.
I didn’t know how a freeperson walked, and I supposed I’d have to learn, but for now, I’d put one foot in front of the other and just move.
The tall gentleman with fiery-red hair walked to me when I neared the bottom step, and I stopped while I was the length of a person away from him. I was taller than him because I was several steps above him, which meant lowering my eyes didn’t keep me from meeting his gaze. I looked to his feet. He wore a suit and a top-hat, and looked more like royalty than a commoner, but surely Her Majesty would’ve told me if he was royalty.
“What shall I call you, Sir?”
“I’d be honored if you’d call me Grandfather. I understand I’m to call you Tabitha?”
“That’s what I’m told, Sir.”
“Please don’t call me Sir. I hope we aren’t strangers for long. Come, let me take you home?”
My guard put my suitcase inside the carriage before stepping onto the back so he could ride outside. Inside, it was just me and the tall man who wanted to be called Grandfather, and I had no idea what to say. The carriage was gilded, and edged with purple and green accents matching my nails. I looked to my Grandfather’s hands and noted the same swirled colors, though his nails were trimmed short.
“The upholstery in here matches our nails.” It was a stupid thing to say, but the silence was awkward. Slaves don’t just blurt things out, but I was wearing clothes and expected to act like a... granddaughter.
I’d promised Her Majesty I’d try, so I was trying.
“The Queen gave you her surname, but you’re still an Amethyst, little Tabitha. The entire family is anxious to meet you, but I thought it might be easier if I came alone to pick you up. A few of your cousins will be at my home to help you get settled in, and we’ll branch out and let you meet more of the family as you feel comfortable doing so.”
“I’ll find some way to repay your kindness.” Free people never admit to owing others, but I wasn’t used to being free.
“You owe us nothing, little Tabby. I regret not knowing about you. My son never married your mother, so I never discovered your existence. The slavers stole your childhood. What hell must you have been put through? I can’t imagine.”
I was certain he didn’t want to imagine, so I didn’t give him any details.
The next hour passed in silence, and was broken when we stopped so the horses could get a drink. My guard walked me to a restroom, and I recalled how I’d had to jump off the cart to go in the dirt when I’d been taken to Her Majesty’s castle.
My Grandfather told me about the village we were in, and how it was the last stop before we climbed a mountain range. Food was delivered to the carriage, and we ate once we were on our way again.
We stopped at the top of the mountain and got out of the carriage to see the magnificent views. My Grandfather put his coat on me when he realized I was chilled.
“Thank you, Grandfather.”
For the first time, I felt Faerie record a debt, as if it were a tiny weight on my soul, but I didn’t care. He’d shown me a kindness and I owed him. It was only right to record it.
“It isn’t an honorific you’re required to use when speaking to me, Tabitha.”
“I’m sorry, Grandfather.”
He turned away, his eyes sad, and I tried to fix it. “Please, I’m sorry. I was just told this morning I’m a freeperson. I’m trying, but it’s hard not to say Sir, or Master, or something when I speak.”
He turned back to me, his eyes still sad. “Then call me Grandfather, if it makes it easier — it’s so much better than Sir. We’ll figure everything out, Tabby.” He sighed. “You won’t be allowed around anyone outside of family until you learn not to thank people. We won’t take advantage of the debts you rack up, but the same can’t be said of outsiders. This means I don’t have to reprimand you for thanking me, because we have time for you to learn later. Baby steps. It’s going to be fine.”
“Where am I to live?”
“Your cousins have set up a bedroom for you in my house. You’re welcome to live with me as long as you wish.” I felt Faerie record the promise, and I breathed a little easier, though part of me was sad because while I lived with him, I couldn’t live with Her Majesty.
Grandfather and I barely spoke during the rest of the ride — a few stilted conversations about the weather, and he pointed out various landmarks as we passed them.
We made it to his home in time for a late dinner, and, as promised, I met three cousins who seemed excited to make my acquaintance.
Grandfather realized I was overwhelmed, and sent two of them away within moments. He told the last cousin I was tired and needed my rest once she’d shown me my room and where my cousins had put things. My female cousins had gone shopping for clothes for me, so my closet was already nearly full without unpacking the trunk Her Majesty had provided.
Mostly, I was in shock that I looked so much like them. I hadn’t understood family would mean we’d be the same. Our hair, our nails, our breast size, the way our waists flowed into our hips. We were different people, but shaped from the same mold, the same clay.