A Grim Fairy Tale

Chapter Eighty-Two

It started to become cold that night, so Vagatha and Anthony went outside to gather wood and she started a fire on the hearth. By the time she got the flames going, she noticed that the prince had his gaze directed at Charlotte. Watching her as she worked in the kitchen to prepare everyone something to eat.

Vagatha recognized that look he was giving her. She had seen it on any man who ever looked upon her stepsister. The astonishment and dazed gleam in his eyes. He was captivated by Charlotte's incredible beauty.

"So that's the famous Princess Charlotte. The rumors did not exaggerate her beauty at all. I have never seen such remarkable features and grace in all my life." He said.

Vagatha swallowed a sudden lump in her throat.

"Yes, but she's more than that. She's kind and generous too."

"When I was a boy, I once heard her father say that she would grow up to be paragon among women, like his first queen. Of course I thought those were exaggerations of a proud father but clearly I was wrong."

Vagatha tried not to get too upset. After all, she had known for years the effect Charlotte had on everyone. It was not something new or even worth mentioning or caring about, let alone becoming emotional over. There was nothing she could do. Charlotte would always be the sparkling, more attractive, sweet, engaging sister. Always. It had never bothered her throughout their entire childhood. In fact, she was rather grateful that she didn't have so many admirers following her around and blubbering false promises of eternal love.

But it bothered her right now. It bothered her that her mother was beautiful, that her sister was beautiful, even her grandmother had been a great beauty in her prime. But Vagatha, had always seen herself as a plain looking female. One who would always be overlooked.

Vagatha took a deep breath, trying to shake off the feelings of inadequacy that were creeping in. She focused on the crackling fire, its warmth enveloping her as she attempted to redirect her thoughts.

"Anthony." She said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "You've only just met her. Beauty is not everything. There's much more to a person than what meets the eye."

Anthony turned his gaze from Charlotte to Vagatha, his expression softening.

"I understand that, but it's hard not to be captivated. She has this light about her, a warmth that draws people in."

Vagatha felt a flicker of irritation.

"I will not be jealous and I will not be vain." She told herself. "Not like Mother. What's so special about being beautiful anyway? Beauty doesn't really help you survive like strength and skill. It doesn't help you make real friends and find real love like compassion can. And beauty doesn't last."

Vagatha took another deep breath, grounding herself in her own thoughts. She reminded herself of the qualities she valued most, loyalty, bravery, and kindness. Those were the traits that truly mattered in a person, not just their appearance.

"What's wrong with you?" Anthony asked, his green eyes practically glowing in hue of the fire.

"Nothing." She said, avoiding all contact with those eyes.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, now if you'll excuse me, I'm going into the kitchen for a drink of water."

Vagatha stood up, brushing off her skirts as she made her way toward the kitchen. She could feel Anthony's gaze lingering on her back, but she refused to look over her shoulder. The warmth of the fire was comforting, but the warmth of his admiration for Charlotte felt like a flame that was burning too bright, too close to her heart.