Neleda

The hall was a brilliant shade of white, scattering the light filtering though the stained glass windows into the farthest corners of the cavernous space. Neleda, the daughter of the fairy king and queen, thought it looked a bit pompous.

In all honesty, it wasn't her parent's fault that the throne room looked like the result of a high-speed collision involving several trucks loaded with day-glo paint. It was her great-grandmother's fault: she had been nearly blind toward the end of her life and so had the room redecorated to keep the brilliant colors she loved around her. Neleda supposed that after nine thousand years of life, it was entirely possible for her great-grandmother to have simply lost her mind.

"Ah, there you are, dear!" A light, airy voice carried across the chamber. The fairy queen, Telsani, was coming toward her, the expression on her face showing her towering rage.

"Hello, mother," mumbled Neleda. Honestly, she could think of at least a hundred other things she would rather be doing at the moment. She didn't understand why she had to be present for the royal dressmakers to weave her dress: it took hours of magically coaxing the plant fibers and spiders' silk to form themselves into fabric. The dress makers could easily weave the dress beforehand and simply fit it to her later. Her mother, however, insisted that Neleda be present for the entire process.

The dressmakers lurked in a side room, detached from the main chamber of the gaudy throne room. As soon as she approached--with the air of someone heading to their execution--they descended upon her; letting her hair out of the tight, practical braid she kept it in; tutting at the state of her clothes, which were threadbare and well-used; and generally just making a fuss about her appearance. Neleda groaned.

"Now, dear, enough of that!" her mother admonished her, "It's bad enough that you spend all of your time on earth (disguised as a human, of all things!), you can at least have the decency to look like the princess you are when you are in the palace!"

Neleda kept her mouth shut. She had learned, at a very early age, that it wasn't worth the effort required to argue with her mother. She dutifully held out an arm for measurement as she replied, as politely as she could force herself to be, "I have plenty of dresses already, mother. Why in all the worlds do I need another?"

Telsani snorted. "Well, you seem not to realize that you even have them. What are you wearing, anyway?"

Neleda looked down. "They're called 'jeans,' mother. They're very comfortable, and I can't exactly go walking around on earth wearing my robes of state, now can I? I have to blend in."

She ignored the disapproving stares of the dressmakers as they began to whisper to their bundles of leaves, magically transforming them into single, seamless pieces of fine silk.

"Well to answer your question," continued the queen, "You need a new dress for the ball on Moon's Night. You are being presented as an eligible young maiden on that occasion, and you need to attract a suitor."

Neleda made no attempt to hide her utter revulsion at the thought of hours of dancing in uncomfortable shoes, talking to mindless men who paid more attention to her beauty and position of power than to her as a person. Telsani and her husband, Neleda's father, would soon start their preparations for the Long Sleep, leaving Neleda as the queen of fairies. She would need a husband to rule with her, though, or the fairy kingdom would reject her: the fairies always ruled in pairs, and the tradition was not easily broken.

She sighed as she was poked and prodded by the dressmakers. It was going to be a long two months until Moon's Night.

Copyright 2007 H.J. Hanauer