“Perhaps we could ask for some brunch.”
Buttons, as Damselfly called him, was obsessed with food, unless he was afraid, which was almost always.
“Maybe you could ask Orion?” Damselfly teased.
Buttons shuddered at the mere mention of the sorcerer’s name, and the princess absently stroked his fur reassuringly until he calmed down enough to think about food again.
“I don’t see why a snack is out of the question seeing as breakfast was so scant,” the greedy bunny posed.
“You ate half of mine and Old Nana’s breakfast on top of your own,” Damselfly ridiculed. “You will be too fat to run away from danger soon.”
The duo sat on Damselfly’s bed waiting for the Princess’s tutor Palen to arrive; the scholar was late although technically in the void of time there was no early or late.
“He’s late,” Buttons instructed.
“I do not feel like learning today anyway,” Damselfly rebelled. “Perhaps we should go exploring?”
“Palen will be angry if he arrives and we are not here,” Buttons fretted.
“No one notices me at all,” Damselfly stated.
“It seems one is always popular when they are in trouble,” Buttons mused.
Damselfly kicked her legs over the edge of the bed. She was still wearing the fairy wings from her birthday despite Coral and Celeste’s ridicule; she liked them. The princess imagined flying away somewhere that the moon and stars still shone.
A place where she did not feel trapped or obliged to behave like a princess, but could act as a child for once.
“You’re right,” Damselfly agreed.
“About brunch?” Buttontail questioned.
“No, about exploring, there is nowhere interesting to go anyway. We’re not even allowed out of the royal apartments on our own.”
“I should think not,” Buttontail lectured.
“Consider all the terrifying things that lurk outside those doors.” Buttontail’s two front teeth chattered nervously.
“How will we ever know what is outside if we never go?”
“I suppose we could visit the kitchens,” Buttontail dreamed. “Where they make all the pies, biscuits, stews, soups, soufflés, cakes…”
While Buttontail continued his litany of delicious foods, Damselfly dreamed of going on an adventure like the characters in Old Nana’s stories. Unfortunately, nothing exciting ever happened to her and with time frozen she could not even look forward to growing up or having a baby brother or sister.
“Sorry, I’m late.” Palen burst through the door making Buttons momentarily disappear under the bed in surprise. “There are a great many things happening in the castle today, but that is no excuse to delay learning.”
Palen was a short pale man with large glasses that magnified his weak green eyes. He had too short legs, which worked rapidly to make up for the deficiency in height, and a large head, which seemed about to crush his body at any second.
“Today we will be studying the proper dining etiquette for a royal banquet.”
“Did someone say dining and banquet?” Buttontail hastened from under the bed, his ears pricked up in anticipation.
“I was hoping to learn more about the Garden Gate,” Damselfly interjected.
“That is out of the question,” the tutor replied.
“Isn’t my education supposed to teach me how to rule the kingdom?” Damselfly asked.
“Yes, of course but…”
“Isn’t the Garden Gate an important part of that kingdom?”
“Yes, though the difference between a soup spoon and a dessert spoon could also be seen as important,” Palen argued feebly.
“I love dessert.” Buttontail drooled.
“Please, Palen, just this once,” the princess begged.
“Oh, all right.” The scholar surrendered. “It is rather interesting.”
“Does it involve any feasts, picnics or repasts?” Buttontail posed.
“Please stop talking about food for one moment, Buttons, so we can learn about the Garden Gate.” Damselfly hugged her gluttonous companion.
“I swear not to say another word though I cannot speak for my stomach.” Buttontail grinned.
While Damselfly and Buttontail sat attentively on the princess’s bed, Palen adjusted his glasses carefully upon his nose and began his lesson.
“In centuries past, Fable was linked by meandering waterways including fast-flowing rivers and huge lakes. Boats were the main source of transport; they allowed people from all regions to communicate and trade. When the rivers started running dry, boats became stranded or trapped in areas where the water level remained deep enough. This meant that certain parts of Fable were essentially isolated with little or no contact with the rest of the world. Well, this problem was so universal that it was agreed something had to be done. Lots of voices believed that magic could be the solution although those that understand the limitations of alchemy know that would be impossible. Bakka is the greatest smith who ever lived. He was commissioned to build a gate that would connect everyone in Fable easily and safely.”
“Is Bakka still alive?” Damselfly queried.
“No one knows,” Palen answered. “No one has seen him for decades, and if he were still alive, he would be older than any person who lived before.”
Damselfly was not satisfied with this answer; however, she did not want to interrupt again so decided to keep quiet.
“Bakka created the Garden Gate, a magical portal that allows travel from one garden to another almost instantly,” Palen concluded.
“That’s not quite true,” Damselfly raised. “You cannot get to the Evergarden.”
“Very good, princess,” the tutor remarked. “Recently, it was necessary to build a prison for those responsible for terrible crimes. These reprobates were to be banished and that resulted in the Evergarden being removed from the network. It means that anyone exiled to the Evergarden cannot leave.”
“Is there really no way out of the Evergarden?” Damselfly asked.
“No, it is impossible,” Palen stated. “A terrible place it is too and a well-deserved punishment for those that commit such awful crimes.”
Palen would not be distracted further. He returned to his planned lesson of dining etiquette although Damselfly was no longer paying attention. She was thinking about the gardens beyond the
