everyone, that this is more than a hobby to me, they’ll be much more amenable to the idea. Right?
To thank the girls for their gifts, I’m planning on cooking a secret luncheon next week. Do you think you could make it? I know things aren’t great with your mother-in-law, but at least consider it? We could drink strawberry wine and play Mad Libs for old times’ sake?
Love,
CeCi
Important Fucking Correspondence from Snow B. White
Onyx Manor
West Road, Grimmland
Z,
Well, I certainly topped you this year for birthday gift giving. A magnet? Seriously, Zell. I know it might take awhile to build up trade credits in a new town, but what’s going on out there? Your postcards are vague at best, and at worst, insulting. You’ve been a lot of things throughout our friendship, but you’ve never been cheap before.
I should explain about CeCi’s classes. When we were Outside, I asked Head of Soufflés exactly where someone might go to school to become a “real chef.” And she suggested this Cord on Blue joint. Solace won’t let me go Outside on my own, lest I don’t finish my stupid Pages, so I started exchanging letters via Pigeon Post with the Humans at the school. She still has to take a test to finalize her admission—they insist that it be done in person. And we still have to get her those crocodile shoes and some knives and things. Rory already bought her an apron. Oh, and she has that nice magnet you sent that will be, let me think, oh yes, totally fucking useless.
You should have seen CeCi’s face, though. She was so happy. She looked free. For a second there I was almost jealous instead of self-satisfied.
Don’t worry. It didn’t last long.
CeCi has baked soufflés daily ever since we got back. She pays someone in the kitchen to clear off for a couple of hours after breakfast—telling the head cook she doesn’t want anyone to see her eating scones.
For her secret thank-you luncheon, we ate cheese soufflé for a first course and chocolate soufflé for dessert. I’m so looking forward to her starting classes so that perhaps a vegetable might eventually join the mix. I admit, the best accompaniment to lunch would have been your sickeningly sweet face, but I guess not even CeCi’s birthday rates your presence these days. I hope you’re settling in nicely, because your mother-in-law seems to have someone’s ear at Fairy Council and they’re actually considering your banishment. Not Jason or the kids, just you .
Speaking of banishments, I got some good news today about the Huntsman. He’s been allowed probationary access into Grimmland. He can visit during daylight hours, as long as he doesn’t make trouble. If he doesn’t take any more hit contracts this year, he’ll be allowed full access again. I feel victory is near and justice will be accomplished. The dwarves say he was an asshole for taking the job in the first place but I say he still saved my life. Plain and simple. Give the dude a break.
You must be receiving letters from Rory, right? Do you think I gave her too many wedding duties? She’s only on table decorations and music, but she seems more intense than usual. Maybe it’s because Maro, the pea princess, has been hanging around over the past couple of weeks. As pea princesses go, I suppose she’s fine. If Rory didn’t loathe her so much, I might even see if she fits into that third bridesmaid dress I’ve got lying around. Unless you change your mind.
CHANGE YOUR MIND, YOU SELFISH COW.
B
Princess Briar R. Rose
Somnolent Tower Castle
South Road, Grimmland
Rapunzel,
You have to come back this instant. If you come back, then this Maro woman will leave because, well, there won’t be enough chairs. Or teacups, will there? Or cake slices. Or plates.
CeCi invited her to the soufflé luncheon. We’ve only known her a little while, and she hasn’t lived in Grimmland for more than a couple of months. How do we know she can be trusted? If the rest of CeCi’s court finds out