Timothy:
Of course they didn’t see how amazing Penelope was. Kidnapped, starved because she was afraid to eat Faery foods based not on something I had told her, but concerning a piece of mythology she’d learned in school . . . Here she stood, withstanding criticism, threats, and drawn battlelines with two queens fussing at her, belittling her, and Queen Beatrice having forced her to be the entertainment of the day.
My poor wife must have been scared and lonely in her captivity. Penelope deserved praise and consideration, loving tenderness. Not this … this catastrophe. The whole scene enraged me. Yet, even worse was the realization that I was the cause of this turmoil, this horror. If Penelope had not married me, none of this would have happened to her.
Queen Moragana would never understand my anger. She would assume that a human could not feel as deeply as a Fae. The rest of the Court would be like that, too, following Queen Moragana’s attitude precisely. They would all look down on my darling, treating her like a subspecies. But I wouldn’t stand for it. I’d . . .
My mind was spinning in circles, cursing the situation, feeling guilt for my role in it, and . . .
“Timothy,” my wife entreated softly. “I still can’t eat anything here, right?”
That did it. I exploded. “Queen Moragana, fix this, I implore you. My wife is famished from not eating, exhausted, and . . .” I didn’t want to say dirty, but scanning that stained pale yellow gown, torn on one side, wrinkled throughout, and obviously not a good fit or fashion for her. . . “dressed in grimy rags unbefitting to her position.” Okay, I stumbled over being so blunt with her standing there, now cowering in shame. Words had defeated me. I saw immediately how I’d crushed her more than the rebukes of the two queens.
I shifted closer, picked up Penelope’s hand, and kissed it. “But in spite of that,” I hurried to say quickly, staring down into her tearful eyes. “My wife is still the most beautiful woman in the world. Her goodness shines . . . no matter what you’ve disgraced her loveliness with.”
Queen Beatrice was the first to speak. “That dress was all we had. We raided the larders of a noble lady from my court. Only we had no shoes to fit her.”
Queen Moragana spoke up second, honing in on the most important aspect of my speech. “Penelope, dear. I will bless this food for you. You will not go without eating. Nor will it keep you here longer than required to flush out the drink you sipped. Before you know it you will be free to journey back to your honeymoon voyage.
“As to the dress and lack of shoes . . .” She shook her head, pondering that problem as if she were mortal, one lacking any magic.
“Let us dine here, then we will hustle you back to my Court where gowns will fill the closets of your wardrobe, and the bed will be like an enchanted cloud of softness. The pillows will soothe you. The coverlets will monitor the correct temperature of your body at all times. I give you my word that we will take care of you perfectly, my dear, young human.”