The Heartwood Box: A Fairy Tale (2 page)

The sweet, pretty
tune she’d been playing was suddenly filled with harsh dissonances and jarring shifts
.
Instead of evoking the pure joys of childhood, it brought to mind ugly passions and disappointments
, bitterness
and clawing fears,
sentiments
that were mostly foreign to the cheerful villagers
.

Genevieve was horrified at her creation, but she couldn’t stop
.
Her music was spontaneous and had always grown out of her feelings
.
Looking out at the audience, she saw astonishment and fear
.
The people who had known her all her life looked at her like an alien
.
Genevieve couldn’t bear it
.

As soon as she got home, she went to her room and in a frenzy burned every last notebook that held her compositions
.
She announced to her parents that she would never play again.

Unfortunately, for Genevieve that was only
the
beginning
.
Though she’d quit music, she found she could not escape that song
.
Soon, she couldn’t even remember the happy girl she’d been
.
She was tormented by horrible mood swings, fits of temper followed by crippling sadness
.
Genevieve hated this side of herself
.
When the moods gripped her, she secretly feared a demon lived inside of her who would take
possession
and perhaps one day drive her to harm the ones she loved
.
She detested the uneasiness she saw or imagined on the faces of her neighbors, and she began to refuse to go out
.

Even her parents were a source of pain
.
At times she flew into rages that they understood nothing of what tormented her
.
At other times she was buckled under with guilt at the pain she was causing them
.
Worst of all, she was consumed by wicked doubts that they couldn’t possibly love her given all the anguish she was causing them.

The worst moment came the following summer
, on the anniversary of that first disaster
.
H
er parents had left her at home while they attended a wedding feast
.
Jealous and bitter at being left, s
he attacked the beautiful piano
forte in the parlor
.
When
her parents
arrived home
later that night,
they
found her
sobbing, huddled amidst the splinters
of the instrument
, her badly torn hands covered in blood.

The Mirans were utterly baffled
.
They adored their daughter, but Genevieve was right that they had no understanding of the dark moods that consumed her
.
They took her to the healer, but the woman could find no illness, no cause for Genevieve’s change
.

After, they went to the priestess, fearing that some demon really had taken possession of her
.
The
p
riestess calmed their fears
.
She told them there was no cure, but promised that their daughter’s sadness would not color her whole life
.

The Mirans
were simple people,
so they
received comfort fr
o
m the
priestess
’ words
.
T
hey never stopped loving their daughter, found patience to
cope with her moods
, and never lost their hope that someday she would find happiness
.
Later when Genevieve reached the age
to marry, they again consulted the priestess, who told them firmly that Genevieve must join the
Bridal Week
.
So they went about all the preparations, divided between hope and fear at their daughter’s destiny
.

Genevieve
had also gone to the priestess
and begged her to say she was too ill
.
It was the only reason any
girl
ever delayed
.
The entire idea of marriage terrified her
.
W
hat would her husband think
?
H
ow could she bring such misery down on
some unsuspecting man
?
She secretly feared that alone of the girls in the town, her
heartwood
box would never change colo
r, would always remain locked.

T
he
priestess
refused to excuse her
.
She told
Genevieve
that she was beloved by Titania
and must never turn away from her gifts, no matter what the price
.
Genevieve bec
a
me impassioned and warned of dire consequences if she were force
d to go through with it
.
The priestess
strongly rebuked the girl
, saying h
er words were akin to blasphemy
,
and
warned her that it would destroy her parents and curse her family if she ever harmed herself
.
And so Genevieve had no choice but to acquiesce
in
the preparations.

Her mother came in,
showing none of the uneasiness she
must
have felt
.
“You look so lovely, Jenny, truly.”

“It’s the dress
,”
Genevieve
said sourly
.
Her mother
clutched her hands in despair at her daughter’s habit of decrying everything about herself
.
Genevieve hadn’t wanted to upset her and
tried to give a cheerful smile
.
“Thank you,
M
ama
,
”
she murmured
.

Genevieve didn’t hate her looks
.
Though she’d probably never be considered the rival of the Fae Queen, she had a wholesome village prettiness
.
Her hair was long and thick, and a striking mix of honey and gold, and she had clear, frank blue eyes
.
But se
veral years of poor eating and sleeping had
taken their toll: the pallor and thinness that might look attractiv
e on a more elegant woman didn’
t suit her
.
When she was younger, she was always tanned and lightly freckled and strong enough to run and climb trees
.
Now she looked like an invalid.

“
It’s time to
go
, Jenny,
”
her mother
said gently.

Genevieve’s face fell
.
“Mama, I can’t face them.”

Though she’d had friends when she was younger, after her music changed the boys and girls her age became wary of her
—
not unkind but uncomfortable, unsure what to say around her
.

Her mother
said
, “
There
now, it’s just a picnic
.
I was nervous when my year came, but
you’ll see
.
I
t’s like everyone’s had a glass of champagne
—
the week brings out their best
nature
.
Please give them a chance, Jenny.”

Genevieve
turned from her mother and reached for her shawl, frowning when she saw it
.
Like all girls
joining
the
Bridal Week
, she had woven it herself
of her
family’s
colors
.
M
ost of it was red,
b
ut
it was not the cheerful red her father favored, but a deep, uneasy shade mixe
d with brown and black
.
A
t
random
points
were clashing strands
of yellow, her mother’s color
.
When she’d first woven it, she’d been intrigued by the unexpected patterns and strange energy of her creation, but now it just seemed as
disturbing as her music
.
She
wished she had
created
something beautiful like the dress
Mama
had
crafted
.
W
hy must everything she did be so ugly and harsh
?

Her mother kissed her gently
.
“
Give them a chance, Jenny
—
you are as much a part of this town, as much Titania’s daughter as the others, and you will be blessed as they are.”
Genevieve fought back her tears
and nodded
.
Mama
was right
.
It was time
.

Genevieve and her mother
made the short walk
to the
village
green where
a
throng of girls
had gathered
,
each wearing
a
shawl with their colors
.
They were
engaged in admiring each other’s designs, shooting looks every now and then at
the young men,
who
stood in their own group twenty feet away
.
Unlike the girls, the boys
wore only one color, that of their craft or profession, though they had choice of the shade
.
Some chose showy displays with bright scarves or
hats
,
while
others were more discreet with just a band on their cuffs or cap.

Genevieve had no choice but to join the girls, shyly trying to stay on the outside
.
To her surprise, Sally, an old friend fr
om school, burst out, “Jenny!”

Several other girls greeted her
.
She saw nothing but warm smiles when they admired her dress and shawl
.
Her mother was right—the excitement and hope of the
Bridal Week
brought out everyone’s most generous side.

The topic soon turned to the boys who had joined this year
.
Though girls almost always joined at eighteen, families often preferred their sons wait
.
S
ometimes they needed more training at their chosen craft or to save money to set up their own household
.

It seemed this year the main gossip concerned the presence of Damian Black
.
It was the first Genevieve had heard his name
.
Everyone knew the Blacks were warriors who lived in the great fortress
on
the hill that overlooked their valley, but she couldn’t remember
ever
having seen them in the village
.
Most likely they lived too far to attend the village school, so the children were taught at home
.
She had an uneasy sense that there had been times when she’d come upon her parents talking about one of the families in the town, and they had suddenly gone silent
.
She felt certain now that it had been the Blacks
.

“His brothers attended the
Bridal Week
, Derek three years ago, and Donal two years ago,” one girl was saying, “but the
y both failed to find brides.”

Genevieve hadn’t heard that—she’d thought everyone found a partner during
the
Bridal Week
.
She wondered if such a thing could happen to her.

“My sister married three years ago,” another girl said
.
“She told me that Derek Black scared the daylights out of all the girls
.
He rarely spoke
and glared at everyone
.
T
hey all said he must have a fearsome temper.”

“What of their sisters?” Genevieve asked
.

Sally looked at her as if she were crazy
.
“Jenny you goose—everyone kno
ws the Blacks have only sons.”
Genevieve didn’t hide her
amazement at this
.
“It is said
because they are warriors, Titania’s most lo
yal guards, but I don’t know.”
Sally shivered
.
“
T
here must be some reason they haven’t found brides—theirs is the only
family this ever happens to.”