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Chapter 2

Mariposa gasped at the sight of a Prince in the same stall as she. For a

long moment, they locked eyes, gazing into one another’s souls, before

Mariposa looked down, ashamed.

              “I apologize, your majesty, for you finding me asleep on the job.

I was incredibly exhausted, and I don’t know what happened, but I just

fell asleep, and –”

“Do not worry, sweet girl. I will keep your little nap a secret, for the

exchange of your name and a ride with me on my grand stallion here,”

the Prince said, patting Moonstone’s cheek.

Mariposa’s eyes widened, thinking that surely he wasn’t serious. “You

want my name and a ride with you, if you’re going to keep this a secret?”

Mariposa said incredulously.

Prince Papillion nodded solemnly. “Surely a sweet girl like you would

have an even sweeter name?”

Mariposa blushed. “Mariposa,” she said quietly. “My name is Mariposa.”

The Prince smiled dreamily as he spoke the name, making it sound like

something magical, something worthy of remark. “Mariposa.” He held

out a hand. “Come join me for a ride on Moonstone, a ride into the

endless night.”

Mariposa tentatively placed her hand, a stable girl’s hand coated with

mud and filth and poverty, into the smooth, warm, royal hand of a Prince, and together they mounted upon Moonstone and cantered into the endless night.

 

                                                             

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Silver Sorceress stood on the balcony of her mountain palace, overlooking the happenings of Farfalle. She could see the entertainers in the market square twirling ribbons of fire and dancing for the people on the left side, the dark sleeping townhouses on her right, and in the centre the grand castle towering above it all in all its royalty.

               But in the far corner of the kingdom, amidst the Black Forest, something caught her eye. Something of her interest, and something that would ignite her fury.

Prince Papillion galloped through the woods on his majestic white stallion; however, he wasn’t alone. Holding on tight behind him was the one and only Mariposa, a dirty orphan girl who worked in the stables to earn her daily bread.

               The Silver Sorceress wrinkled her nose in disgust. How dare Prince Papillion fall for a grubby stable girl when such beauty was right in front of him? How dare he not fall weak at the knees for the Silver Sorceress!

               Envy and anger boiled inside the Sorceress, a poisonous combination that would wipe out the whole kingdom if she wasn’t careful. When the Silver Sorceress was angry, you wished you could vanish into thin air and hide under the earth, for the Sorceress’ anger was the most terrifying thing. But add a little jealousy, and the Silver Sorceress was indestructible.

              “You’ll be sorry, Prince Papillion,” the Silver Sorceress said bitterly. “You’ll wish you never met that stable girl. Because no one angers the Silver Sorceress. No one.”

Chapter 4

“Is that all?” Mariposa asks, plucking the petals off a daisy head as the sun disappears behind a cloud.

I sigh. “Mariposa, have you no patience? The story has barely begun, yet you think this is the end.”

“I’m hungry,” Mariposa complains. “Can we have lunch now?”

“Alright, we’ll take a break.” My stomach groans with hunger, and I suddenly have a craving for a juicy pear from the pear tree.

I grab Mariposa’s hand and drag her up with me. “Come on. Let’s go pick some pears to feast on.”

I wrap my arms around Mariposa’s waist and lift her up, and she stretches her hand out to a shiny green pear shaped like an upside-down heart, snatching it off the branch and sinking her teeth into its juicy white flesh.

She rolls her eyes back with pleasure. “Mmm…good.”

I twist off my own pear and take a bite, the pear nectar dribbling down my chin. “It’s not just good, it’s peary good,” I say.

 I wait a second for Mariposa to realise what I did. “Mama!”

With Mariposa in my arms, we settle down against the pear tree trunk, dappled sunlight falling on our laps and the sweet taste of heart-shaped pears on our tongues, and I continue Mariposa’s story.

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