Pulling My Heartstrings

The fairy who had been bringing my drink paused mid-air, her eyes wide with shock. Her wings quivered, and she nearly dropped the goblet. I raised an eyebrow and cleared my throat. "My drink," I repeated a hint of impatience in my tone.

She snapped out of her reverie and hurriedly placed the drink on the table in front of me. "Sorry," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is it true?"

I took a long sip from the goblet, savoring the rich, spiced wine before responding. "I shrugged. 'Her friend only had her wings pulled out, but the woman that was killed made her little girl embarrass the princess at the square... from what I heard, of course."

The fairy gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. The tavern erupted into a low murmur of voices, patrons whispering and casting furtive glances our way. The green-haired fairy leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming with interest. "Tell us more," he urged, his voice low and conspiratorial.

I leaned back in my chair, enjoying the attention. "It was a spectacle," I began, my voice carrying easily over the din. "The little girl, barely eight summers old, stood in the middle of the square, surrounded by a crowd. She wore a dress of pure white, a stark contrast to the mud and filth of the marketplace. She was a picture of innocence, but her actions were anything but."

The fairy who had brought my drink sat down at an empty chair, her wings folded tightly against her back. Her eyes were fixed on me, wide and unblinking.

"She mocked the princess with her actions and her mother was the one behind it. The bird followed the mother and one thing led to another."

There was a collective intake of breath, and the tension in the room was palpable. The green-haired fairy looked pale, and his bravado vanished. "I... I didn't know," he stammered.

The cross-eyed fairy was now visibly scared, his bravado shattered. He murmured, "Does the princess have a vengeful bird now?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back in my chair. "Keep on talking, my friend," I said with a sardonic smile. "You might find out. And if you do, I don't think you'll live to tell the story."

The female fairy, still hovering nervously nearby, asked, "How do you know all of this?"

I let out a slow breath. "Because I did—" I paused, catching myself. "I heard a guard saying it," I corrected, masking my slip with a casual wave of my hand. "But it doesn't hurt to refrain from speaking stupid things about the princess. Who knows? Maybe the vengeful bird is in this place as we speak."

A ripple of fear swept through the room. Eyes darted around, searching for hidden spies.

The cross-eyed fairy stood up abruptly, his wings twitching. "My mate is waiting for me," he said hurriedly, and without another word, he left.

One after another, the fairies began to depart, their faces pale and worried. I smirked, satisfied that I had disrupted the evening. From the look of things, I might have ruined the tavern's business for the night.

I took a sip of my drink and immediately frowned. The taste was awful—effingly sweet and utterly nauseating. I crinkled my nose in disgust. The urge to vomit was strong, but I suppressed it. I had already spoiled the evening; vomiting on their floors would only make it worse. Forcing the nausea down, I dropped a few coins on the table and flew out of the tavern.

The cool night air greeted me as I took to the sky, flapping my wings steadily. The flight helped calm my rumbling stomach. I scanned the lands below, looking for a place to land. A large oak tree caught my eye, its branches spreading wide and inviting. I descended and landed softly on the ground, then promptly doubled over and barfed my guts out.

"That orange nonsense was disgusting," I muttered to myself, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "Who came up with such a nasty drink?"

I was still grumbling when I heard a small cry behind me. It was feminine, and the sound was filled with sorrow. I looked around and saw two giant rocks with a narrow space between them. The cry continued, pulling at my heartstrings.

Curiosity and concern drove me forward. I passed through the narrow gap between the rocks and emerged on the other side, where a small lake shimmered in the night. There, a brown horse stood nuzzling a figure sprawled on the ground. A tiara lay discarded beside her, glittering.

Her hair was the pinkest mass I had ever seen, cascading down her shoulders in waves. Instantly, I knew who she was—my princess. Her sobs were heart-wrenching, each one piercing me like a dagger. Someone must have hurt her deeply to make her cry like this.

"Your Highness," I said softly, approaching her with care. "What troubles you?"

She looked up, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She didn't recognize me, of course she can't. I am an effing fairy at the moment.