Della stopped suddenly. The fairy’s face changed, filling with anger. She jumped towards the wings, and her spell was broken. The guards ran forward, grabbing her thin arms and easily holding her back.
‘If she will not give me my wings, then let her suffer like me! If I cannot fly, then she must sleep. Tonight, your beloved princess will fall into a deep sleep and never wake up again!’
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Satisfied, he asked the third daughter, ‘How much do you love me, my dear?’
The third daughter was more creative than the other two. She often got into trouble by saying clever things.
So she said, ‘I love you like fresh meat loves salt.’
Her father frowned. ‘You don’t love me at all!’ he cried. ‘Get out of my house.’
And so he threw her out of the house.
The girl cried and cried, but she had to find a way to live. So she walked until she reached a marsh. There, she took lots of long grass and made it into a cloak. The cloak covered her whole body, and hid her expensive clothes.
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But there was one thing that Zelda could never do. Morg had felt her confusion, as they had shared the kiss. The magic could change Morg’s appearance, but it could not change the way her body felt. Zelda had felt her heavy arms, her sharp bones and rough skin, and she had moved away in surprise.
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‘You wicked boy!’ they spat. ‘I raised you, I gave you everything you needed, and you disobeyed me!’
‘I did not,’ said Mortimer, smiling wickedly. ‘You stood at the head of his bed, and so the King was supposed to survive.’
Death raised a bony finger at Mortimer. ‘If you ever trick me again, it will mark the end of your life.’
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