Once Upon a Time: The Villains by Shea Berkley Read Free Book Online

from my clothes.
    While one guard is sent to bring forth the miller and his daughter, another steps to the carriage door and opens it. The king, in all his finery, descends. Gold encircles his neck and waist while every finger is encased in massive glittering rings. His splendor is nearly blinding. The miller lumbers out of his home and behind him follows his daughter, her head bowed, her steps slow, her demeanor just as gentle as before.
    The king waves his hand for the head guard. When the man approaches, the king asks, “Is that her?”
    “Aye, your majesty.” The guard pulls the girl forward with gentle insistence until she stands directly in front of the king.
    The king brushes a hand against her hair and pushes it back, fingering the silkiness of it. He peers into her face and turns her about as if inspecting a prized broodmare. He hands her back to the guard. “You are right. She is beautiful.”
    The miller casts a bold, calculating eye toward his daughter. “Aye, your Majesty. Me daughter is the loveliest.”
    “And can she do as you claim? Can she spin straw into gold?”
    The miller’s mouth stretches into a slick smile. “Who needs gold when such beauty exists?”
    A heavy silence descends on the group, and the king’s eyebrows slide dangerously low. If the miller were a man of even slight intellect, he would see his fate in the hard glint of the king’s eyes. “I do.”
    “Oh.” The miller shifts his feet, startled by the admission. His confidence falters.
    “Your humble existence speaks of a lie, but many an enchantment is made for those who are noble and pure. Two qualities a peasant such as you could never have. But your daughter…” The king’s gaze rests on her loveliness. A sigh is heard. Then his attention snaps back to the peasant. “I ask once more. Nay, I demand to know the truth. Can she spin straw into gold?”
    The miller glances at his daughter. Her eyes plead with him to tell the truth, but she does so in vain. His pride means more to him than his daughter’s life. He looks back at the king and nods. “She can.”
    “Excellent.” The royal robes billow as the king turns and boards his carriage. Settling against the cushions, he commands his guard coldly, “Bring the girl to the palace.”
    I’m surprised. So far, no magic is needed to bring about my plan. “It’s fate,” I whisper. I am to be vindicated at last. Oh, the fun I will have.
    The girl cries out for help, but the head guard takes her and places her behind him on his horse. Dust rises as the procession takes off. Soon the excitement is over and the father is left alone, wringing his hands by the river. The mill wheel creaks and groans, slapping at the water as if in commiseration of the man’s distress.
    I magically appear beside the man and whisper into his ear, “The wheel of misery has just begun.”
    At the sound of my voice, he turns, but I disappear, a cackle echoing on the wind. My time has come.
    Magic is a wondrous thing. The forest is filled with magical creatures man cannot see, for magic is beyond his experience and thus, to him, it does not exist except in stories to scare young children. But I know better. A few herbs here, a bit of bone and blood there; nothing is too sacred to bring about my desires. That is the way of nature. Something must die for another to live. I find what I need and leap through time and space to reach the castle before the king and his spinner. The castle grows out of the ground like a monster rising from the earth’s molten core. Jagged stone work spears the sky. The drawbridge drops open revealing iron teeth. The gilded carriage enters its gullet. I follow, a poor wretch beneath everyone’s notice, and I hide in the shadows waiting for my moment.
    The prince welcomes his father. This offspring of man, the future of his people, is handsome, young and virile — everything I wish to be, but lack. He appears to be as much myth as I, for no man should be so charming and