Mrs. Beast (31 page)

       without delay

       
where Prince Runyon

       is today."

    
The mirror grows dark red then reveals Runyon shifting uncomfortably in a large stone chair.
 
Beside him, sitting in a huge stone throne, is his father, King Gunther.

    
Cinderella teeters up behind Beauty.
 
"Is the fair one your husband?"

    
"Yes, and the other is his father, whom I haven't seen since the wedding.
 
He doesn't look well."

    
Don't just sit there like a potted pansy
, the king's voice booms from the mirror.
 
I summoned you here for some answers.
 
You've been married nearly nine months.
 
Is your wife with child?

    
I don't think so
, Runyon mutters.

    
What kind of answer is that?
 
Is her belly round?

    
She's been away for some time, visiting relatives.
 
I sent my most trusted servant to fetch her home.
 
When she's back, we will screw wike wabbits.

    
The mirror begins to tremble in Beauty's hand, and she lays it on the vanity.
 
Cinderella sits beside her on the vanity bench, and they both look down into the glass.

    
King Gunther rubs his side and his mouth twists with pain.
 
Before I die, I need an heir to the throne.

    
Runyon jerks his head, his cornflower blue eyes incredulous.
Father, you have an heir.

    
Gunther pounds the arm of his throne and both the beauties jump.

    
I'll dance with the devil before I leave my kingdom to a pansy like you.
 
The only time you were a real man was when you were a beast.
 
The king pushes a finger in Runyon's face.
 
Fornicating, playing with paints, writing silly verses and singing lovesick songs.
 
The king spits in the royal spittoon.
 
I need an heir who can fight and hunt and watch over his subjects.
 
I refuse to die until I get one!
 
I'm a rock. If Godfather Death comes for me, he'll break his knockers trying to carry me off.
King Gunther shouts, his face mottled crimson.

    
A sly expression overtakes Runyon.
 
All right, Father.
 
Before I go, wet's drink to my first son.

    
King Gunther glares at his son, then barks out a laugh.
 
Ale!
 
he shouts, and a servant scurries in bearing two mugs.
 
Runyon strides across the throne room, takes the mugs, and draws a vial from his pocket.
 
He uncorks the cap and pours three drops of poison into one mug.

    
"Oh, Runyon, no," Beauty cries over the mirror.

    
The king gulps his ale and belches loudly.
 
Now, wipe off that girlish grin and get going.
 
I need to use the piss pot.

    
Beauty and Cinderella both hold their breath as Gunther staggers from the throne room.
 
Runyon leans forward, places a hand to his ear and momentarily hears the thud of Gunther's body hitting the floor.
 
He skips into hall where the king's body lies.
 
Beauty and Cinderella exhale twin moans.

    
Runyon nudges his father's body.
 
Sure that he's dead, Runyon viciously kicks the king's huge stomach, and the body expels a thunderous fart.
 
Runyon leaps through the air like Baryshnikov.
 
He stands frozen, eyes fixed on the body, and then screws up his face and waves his arms.

    
Some rock,
he sputters.
 
More wike a heap of shit.
 
Holding his nose, he snatches the crown from his father's head and runs down the hall toward a secret side entrance.
 
He rubs his hands together greedily and says,
King Runyon with ten times the subjects, ten times the taxes, ten times my pick of wovers
.
 
He enters the stable and unhitches Vixen.
What about Beauty?
 
My subjects will want to know what's become of my queen.
 
I know--she met with a terrible accident. But what if she weturns?
 
Runyon's voice slithers from the mirror.

    
Runyon draws the vial from his pocket, smirks evilly.
 
Beauty lifts the mirror to her face and weakly murmurs,

     
"Magic mirror,

       before I'm sick,

       
remove the sight

       of this lunatic."

    
"Ah, that's how it works," Cinderella squeaks. "You have to ask in rhyme."

    
Beauty dabs away her tears.
 
"I'll be leaving immediately for Glass Mountain."

    
"Why would you want to go there?"

    
"I thought I knew why, but . . . I've been on a quest for six months . . . and I'm so close . . . "

    
Cinderella glances over at Mother, still lying inert in her cage. "Will you tell me about your quest?
 
Perhaps I can help?"

    
The fact that Cinderella is offering help at this late stage would make Beauty laugh, if the revelations during the past hour had not been so overwhelming.
 
She's much too disoriented to set out for Glass Mountain, so she begins: "My childhood was not as gay as yours," and for the next hour relates the circumstances, places, and people that brought her to Charmed Kingdom.

    
"I'm afraid it's all for naught,” Beauty sighs. “I'm afraid if Elora transforms Prince Runyon, he won't be my same beloved Beast."

    
"You can never go back.
 
You can't reverse the hands of time,"
 
Cinderella says.
 
Her voice has descended three octaves and lost all trace of youth.

    
"You can refuse to face it and hide, live in memories, use potions and props, but time marches on and ravages everything in its path."
 
Cinderella removes her gloves, lifts hands spotted with age, and unwinds her veil.
 
    
"Cinderella.
 
Don't!"
 
Mother caws, reviving, beating her wings stiffly.
 
Cinderella pries off her gold shoes, runs to the cage and secures the door.
 
She takes a deep breath, then sighs with resignation, "It ends, Mother."

    
The raven opens its beak. Vapor spills from its mouth and coalesces into a woman's shape, leaving a pile of white feathers on the cage bottom.
 
The misty apparition takes on a faint wash of gold in the mass of curls, of blue in the vacant eyes, of red in the lips, moans and ascends through the ceiling.

    
"She was truly your mother?" Beauty whispers.

    
"Yes," Cinderella answers wearily.
 
She hobbles back to the vanity bench and drops down next to Beauty.
 
"She told me to keep your mirror because she thought its magic could make me beautiful and young again.
 
Mother would fly to the four corners of Grimm Land to gather creams and potions that restore youth.
 
None of them worked, and each time I felt I had failed her.
 
Mother was hard to please.
 
Everything I told you about my childhood was a lie.
 
I wasn't born a princess either."

    
She tells Beauty the honest and woeful account of her youth, up to Paul riding her off to Charming Castle. "Like you, I was hesitant to marry, and I told Mother so.
 
I told her it was the trimmings Paul loved and not me.
 
Didn't he carry away Sweetness and Light when he saw their feet in my gold shoe?
  
Mother made me visit the Grimm psychologist.
 
I told him of my reluctance to marry a man who not only didn't recognize me while I was at the hearth, but who also was fooled by my step-sisters until Mother pointed out their bloody feet.
 
He said,
Now, now, child, the prince would have seen through their deception even without the bird's help.
Their bleeding in his presence demonstrated their impurity and coarseness.
 
That the shoe fit you, and you alone, is very significant, Cinderella.

    
Beauty grits her teeth and holds her tongue.

    
"He also said,
Paul recognized you at the hearth
,
he didn't want to embarrass you, and you know in your heart that he knew you knew.
 
Otherwise, you would not have accepted him as your betrothed. You knew that he appreciated your dirty sexual aspects, willingly accepted your vagina in the form of the shoe, and approved of your desire for a penis, symbolized by your tiny foot fitting within the shoe
."

    
"What?!" Beauty exclaims.

    
"I was young, and it meant so much to Mother that I marry a prince.
 
We were happily married for three years.
 
Paul was everything a woman could wish for in a husband."
 
Cinderella smiles wistfully.
 
"He was thrilled when I became pregnant, but his compliments ceased as I grew bigger.
 
I'd look in the mirror each day and be horrified with the changes in my body.
 
Mother comforted me by saying I would be my same beautiful self after the baby was born.
 
She lied.
 
There were silver scars on my breast, belly and thighs.
 
My waist had grown thick.
 
My pert bosoms grew enormous with milk, then when the boy was weaned, they drooped.
 
It will happen to you too, Beauty."

    
"Cinderella, you are a still a beautiful woman.
 
I couldn't believe it when Paul said you were to be a grandmother."

    
"You felt differently about me afterward, admit it.
 
When you discovered I wasn't young like you, I became uninteresting and unimportant."

    
"Quite the contrary, I hoped to learn from your life experience.
 
Then I overheard you saying that you didn't want me here."

    
"You make me sad.
 
You're filled with life, youth, and energy.
 
Next to you, no one notices me."

    
"Not when you hide behind that veil."

    
"You hope to learn from my experience?" Cinderella's voice takes on a bitter edge.
  
"I know your past; every word spoken, every action of those around you, was in reaction to your beauty.
 
Since you were a baby in your daddy's arms, everyone has held you up as an ideal and hated you for it.
 
Men have complimented and fussed over you, their eyes turn whenever you enter a room.
 
Ten years from now, men will glance at you from the corner of their eyes and keep their gaze moving for the fresh face, the shiny hair, the slim waist between firm hips and bosom."