Fortune Favors the Courageous

Chapter 38: Denouement

denouement
n. the final outcome of the main dramatic complication
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"And so they shared a kiss, and she and the prince lived happily ever after. Theeee end!"

Proud little fingers shut the book with a satisfactory thwump! Emerald besought emerald, eager beneath the cherry tree.

"Well done, my little bird," Mama cooed, eyelids heavy with fiercely gentle pride— that oxymoronic kind reserved for mothers. "There were some very big words in that book. Had you seen turmeric somewhere else before? You didn't even sound it out!"

"Mm-mn!" she hummed excitedly, superfluous energy sent away with the kicking of little feet, unable to touch the grass from her seat on the wooden bench. "But it's something you can cook with. I've heard the cooks say it."

"How did I end up with such a clever, resourceful girl?" Mama preened, before giving the little princess a loving boop on the nose. "Now. I do believe it's somebody's naptime—"

"What? Noo!" Zelda pouted, puffing her cheeks defiantly. "I'm not even tired, Mama!"

Her mother laughed, bright and comforting like the sun. "Not you, silly. Your brother. He can barely keep his eyes open."

There he was, in her arms, cradled against Mama's breast. He observed his sister, not an ounce of sleepiness in his big, blue eyes.

That rich, sapphire color was not the only thing he'd gotten from her father, it seemed. They fixated on her, unnervingly so, like he was expecting her to do something gravely important.

As he reached for her with innocent, chubby fingers, Zelda shrank away, nose wrinkling. "He's staring."

Mama smiled with a soft exhale, rocking the boy to encourage his alleged drowsiness. "I think he wants you to keep reading. Your stories are captivating, little bird. Papa and I get mesmerized, too. Speaking of your Papa,"—she rose from the bench—"why don't you go sit with him in the gazebo while I get your brother to bed?"

The little princess slumped, wishing she could variegate into another knot in the wooden bench. "I don't want to."

Mama frowned. "Why not, Zelda?"

Despite the soothing arms inviting sleep, sapphire remained wide, pinning her down. Expectant.

"He's mad at me."

"Whatever for, my love?"

Everything, she wanted to say, but she just shook her head, jutting her lower lip out reproachfully.

Mama's brow hardened. "Well, honey, it's either sit with Papa in the gazebo or come with me to put your brother down for his nap. Which'll it be?"

She'd face the same oppressive eyes either way. At least the gardens didn't stink of soiled swaddling cloth. Reluctantly, she slid off the bench. Mama watched her daughter head towards the gazebo for a quiet moment before departing, herself.

The king took up over half the bench in the gazebo, nose buried in some ancient tome. When Mama joined them here to enjoy temperate evenings together, Zelda sat on one of her parents' laps in order to fit everyone. It felt like ages since she'd last experienced that familial harmony, however.

Her father didn't notice her approach, so she plopped her rump down on the steps and dropped her chin in her hands, staring resentfully across the way to the cherry tree she was just sitting under with Mama.

"Oh— Zelda?" Her father blinked, setting the tome aside. "When did you get there?"

She didn't answer.