In a stone palace above a river, a king and queen carried one sorrow year after year: no child’s step had ever sounded in their halls. Then, at last, a daughter was born. Bells rang from the tower, white cloth was spread on the tables, and a cradle of carved ash wood was set in the great chamber. The king ordered a christening feast so full and bright that the kitchen fires burned from dawn until moonrise.
The queen sent for the good fairies of the realm, so they might stand beside the cradle and give the child their gifts. One promised grace in her step, while another gave her a clear singing voice. A third laid a hand above the baby’s brow, wishing her a kindness that would draw hearts near. But when the golden plates were counted for the guests, there were fewer than the number of fairies in the old stories. Because of this, one fairy, who had long lived apart and had not been seen at court for many years, was left uninvited.
The feast had reached the moment of blessing when the tall doors opened on their own. The uninvited fairy stepped inside, wearing a dark traveling cloak dusted with silver road-mist. No one cried out. The musicians lowered their bows, and the king rose from his chair. She looked at the empty place where no plate had been set for her, and then she looked down into the cradle. "When the princess is grown," …
6 chapters
