Fairy Tales (The Two Moons of Rehnor, Book 15) by J. Naomi Ay

Author:J. Naomi Ay [Ay, J. Naomi]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Ayzenberg, Inc.
Published: 2014-08-04T04:00:00+00:00

On that tempestuous night, when the thunder rumbled across the churning seas, and lightning began to crackle overhead, Marik rose in his bed, and called out to his nurse. Leta-Reta came running as quickly as her wide body would allow, having only just retired after assisting the boy in flossing his teeth.

"What's the matter, young boss?" Leta inquired while Reta rubbed her tried eyes, and tried to force herself to stay awake. It was difficult challenge for her, as she had only just nodded off to sleep after a long, hard day of tending to Marik's needs.

Marik wasn't certain how to answer, as he didn't exactly know what was wrong himself. As a point of fact, nothing really was very bad. He was safe and warm in his luxurious hotel bed. His belly was full from the evening's gourmet meal, and there was plenty of money in the coffers to pay for it all again tomorrow.

Nevertheless, Leta recited her usual litany of questions, while Reta's eyes once again drifted to a close, her head falling heavily upon their shared shoulder.

"Are you hungry? Are you cold? Does your head hurt? Does your tummy ache? Did you have a bad dream? Do you want a drink of water?"

"No. No. No," Marik replied. "I don't want any of those things. I just want..."

"What?"

"A story," Marik realized. "Tell me a story, Leta, a fairy tale. Sit down beside me, and talk to me until I fall asleep."

Leta hesitated for a moment. Although Marik was a boy, he looked like a man, and he was Rehnorian, a race she wasn’t entirely familiar with. Besides that, she had heard odd things back in her cloistered, private school, things about single-heads preferring to get it on with duals. Climbing into bed with Marik was certainly beyond their job description.

“I miss my mama.” Marik sniffed, large tears forming in his pale gray eyes.

“What?” Reta snorted awake.

“Hush.” Leta sighed with relief.

No, the boy, despite his size, was really just a lonely, unloved child searching for a mother figure. Settling into the bed, Leta pulled his head against her ample breast, a place he found amazingly comforting.

“Story?” he reminded. “A fairy tale?”

“Right, give me a moment to think of one.”

Leta leaned back and tried to recall a tale age appropriate for a ten year old boy. Unfortunately, she couldn’t come up with one in particular that she liked. Being both Beckwadian and Bagmagian, she aged five times faster than a Rehnorian, and in her four and half short years, very little time had been spent with her parents.

Since their earliest memory, Leta-Reta had lived at the Beckwadian School for Girls, an exclusive, private institute for the privileged class. The school was located right next door to the similar academy for boys, and it was there that Leta-Reta met the love of their lives, and subsequently, had their singular heart broken.

Therein lay a fairy tale, Leta realized, and began to relate it, couching the narrative in a way young Marik might understand.

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