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Masquerades of fairies
Masquerades of fairies
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Masquerades of fairies

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Flora knew what the servants were whispering about and realized that they were right. The fairies had indeed been here at night. They waltzed in flight over every flowerbed and mound.

The fairies’ ball would have resembled a fairy tale if the winged beauties hadn’t turned out to be predators.

The bush of blue roses also resembled a hunched predatory troll, which the fairies forced to serve, digging the ground with its nose.

There was some kind of creepy creature living under the bush. Right in the roots! Or was it roots? And next to it was a smiling elf. Only he was dressed all in black.

«Good morning, my lady!» He said hello, taking off his velvet beret. The ears under the beret were as sharp as fish gills.

Flora recoiled from the elf. The same elf had lured her to the fairy masquerade yesterday, only he looked much more unattractive in the daylight.

«What are you doing here?»

«Come to see how you got back?»

Well, what should she say to him? Slap him in the face?

«You threw me to the fairies!» Flora rebuked him.

«I was hurt myself,» the elf showed strange marks on his skin in the form of letters and symbols. «Fairies scratch a lot.»

«What do you want here?» Flora didn’t trust the elf anymore, so she wasn’t being polite either.

«I want to hire myself out as a gardener to be closer to you, my lady.»

It was more like a joke. An elf gardener! Who would believe such a thing?

«My father’s castle has enough gardeners. One more would be too many, and there’s not enough wages for all of them.»

«I can work for nothing. I’m an elf!»

«The garden fairies are already working for free.» Flora pointed at the fighting gardeners’ assistants. The boys were arguing over the cause of the blue roses. The argument ended in a scuffle.

«I’ll just live in the hollow of an elm or poplar tree,» the elf said, uncertainly crumpling his beret in his hands. His fingers were as thin as spider’s legs

«All the hollows in the garden are occupied by fairies,» Flora said sternly. Well, maybe she exaggerated a little.

«I don’t think Poplar Alley is uninhabited yet.»

«Live in the poplars if you like, but I’ll be off.»

«Wait! You can call me Charles if you like, milady.»

«You have a common Earth name,» Flora said warily.

«My real name is Sharneel, but you’ll be more comfortable calling me Charles.»

He’s right! Flora couldn’t pronounce Sharneel, no matter how hard she tried. It must be enchanted.

«Is the dragon coming for dinner?» Charles asked.

«What makes you think that?»

«A starling whispered it to me.»

«You should listen to birds more,» Flora hesitated when she realized. «Do you understand bird’s language?»

«It is a little,» Charles admitted.

«Then I could use you as a servant.»

«So I can move closer to your apartment?» Charles was pleased.

«No, you can occupy any poplar,» Flora smiled kindly. If an elf has the talent to make a house out of poplar, let him try.

«By the way, could you chase away that disgusting creature crawling under the rosebush by the gate?»

«I can’t, ma’am,» the elf immediately changed to a pleading tone. «It must stay here. It was assigned to the castle as a lookout from the magic kingdom, but it’s a garden secret.»

The elf winked slyly at Flora.

«An important person took a great liking to you, so you are being watched.»

«So I won’t run away from my own castle?» Flora snickered.

«Nothing bad may happen to you.»

«Could the fairies attack me again? Then they’d have to trespass on my domain.»

«There are many dangers besides fairies.»

«I’ve only encountered fairies!»

It was better not to have encountered them! Flora recalled with horror the aggression of the winged beauties that had swooped down on her. These are not fairies, but savages! They should have aristocratic manners.

«Why doesn’t anyone educate them!»

«It is because the empress of the magical empire has run away,» the elf explained dignifiedly. «This is a great tragedy for all of us. Without her supervision, all the fairies have disbanded.»

«Damn that bastard!» Flora cursed. «She had the misfortune to leave this wild pack unattended.»

«Without her, all the fairies are homeless,» the elf nodded. «It is except for the garden ones.»

«Why is it? Does she visit them?»

«The garden fairies have a mistress – you!»

«Why is it me?»

«Probably it is because they fly in your territory,» the elf squinted slyly. There was something he wasn’t telling me.

«I don’t think they obey me.»

«If they haven’t attacked the guest, i.e. me, they must be trained by you.»

«You’re logical!» Flora walked through the garden past the blooming acacia trees, and the elf soared after her. Soon the gardeners would notice that the mistress had a new admirer. The main thing is that they should not notice that this admirer is hovering over the path, not treading on it.

However, the elf disappeared into the hazel thicket as soon as Drusilla appeared on the road. It was daytime, but she looked like a lady, and she was reprimanding her broom for something.

«Oh, you are idle broom!» She wailed, plucking twigs from her broom. «You fly where you’re not asked! You’ve got a nerve! You don’t listen to me!»

The elegant lady with the broom would have looked ridiculous if it weren’t for her pointy hat. A hat like that always identifies a witch. And the black cat sitting next to her only adds points to her witchy reputation.

«The broom was helping me!» Flora stepped towards Drusilla. «She was covering the dragon’s tracks.»

«Ah, so that’s it!» Drusilla crouched in a curtsy.

Today, a necklace with a large sapphire glittered around the witch’s graceful neck. Had the Marquis given it to her? Flora didn’t think her father could have an affair with a witch living in the castle, but suddenly Drusilla was aiming for the Marquise’s seat.

The old decrepit housekeeper’s appearance slept like a mask. Drusilla in her younger guise turned out to be a very attractive woman. Her extravagant black attire aside, she could be called a refined lady. It was no surprise if her father had a crush. He’s always been into alchemists and astrologers. So the witch is quite his type.

«Why did you take off the old woman’s disguise?» Flora asked her directly.

«I was tired of looking decrepit and toothless.»

«It’s better than looking dead like the last Marquise,» Flora hinted. «I think anyone who tries to take her place will be dead too. Rumor has it that the local marquises are cursed.»

Drusilla giggled.

«What’s so funny?»

«It is nothing, my lady. I was just thinking that secrets to mortals are no longer secrets to you and me.»

The witch must know everything. She could fly over the towers at night on her broom and overhear any secret conversation. Flora couldn’t resist asking:

«Do you know where my mother has gone?»

«You mean Flora’s mother?» Drusilla squinted suspiciously.

It was necessary not to misspell things from now on. The witch was beginning to suspect her. It wouldn’t be far from trouble.

«Let’s call everything and everyone by their official names,» Flora said.

«You mean human?»

«And in turn, we call the human ones the common ones. Do you understand the terms?»

«You amaze me, madam!» Drusilla even whistled, and Blackie meowed and twisted her paw at her temple. «I don’t want you to take rules and terms for granted! Apparently, running away from the dragon, you lost respect for yourself.»

«What do you mean?»

«I’m sorry,» Drusilla was immediately startled and bounced behind a pillar of the garden gazebo. Only her pointy hat now peeked out. «I didn’t mean to be impertinent. I didn’t mean it!»

Who did the witch think she was, to be so flattering to her? Flora was too shy to ask directly. She’d give herself away with questions. If she’s so powerful that witches are afraid of her, then she’s supposed to be all-knowing.

«Would you pick me some blue roses?» Flora didn’t know where to send Drusilla. «I want to make a wreath of them.»

«Do you want to summon the midnight spirits?» Drusilla wondered. «It’s not worth it; your skin will turn blue before you start weaving the wreath.»

«I’ll take my chances anyway.»

Drusilla didn’t like it, but she obediently went to the rosebush by the gate and had a long argument with the creepy creature living in the roots.

«The roses should have been torn at midnight,» she protested. «But the mistress had lost her mind!»

The blue roses were difficult to pluck, even for a witch. It wasn’t until the evening that Flora got a dozen blue roses and noticed that they really turned her fingers blue. It was better to throw them away, but Drusilla stood with a broom like a guard and waited for Flora to weave the promised wreath. To tame the witch’s suspicion, she had to weave it.

A round dance of fairies

Flora wove the wreath and hummed. The thorns hurt her fingers. The roses were predators. They wanted to dig into the skin until it bled. By the way, the blood that dripped on them immediately dissolved in the petals. Are they vampires?

«Don’t sing, my lady!» Drusilla waved her broom toward the window, where it was getting dark. «Otherwise you’ll summon the dragon.»

«I don’t think so!» Flora looked out the window. There was no golden glow in the dark sky. So the dragon has not flown yet.

«The dragon loves your songs.»

«You mean the songs of innocent girls? I heard that somewhere.»

«No, it is yours exactly,» objected the witch.

«But he’s never even heard me sing, unless he’s been listening, lurking under the windows like a mouse. That’s not typical dragon behavior!»

«You drove him crazy and made him behave like a dragon!»

«Why am I the bad one?»

«Is that a bad thing?» Drusilla is wary. «What’s bad is that you’re singing now. It’s better not to sing! Otherwise we’ll be exposed.»

«Anyone who enters this room will expose us,» Flora glanced at the living mask and the fire rose. Only a drunken Raphael could miss those two magical objects.

The mask squeaked and shunned the fire rose. She had no objection to the witch with the broom.

«I can’t do this!» Flora tried to tie the ends of the wreath with ribbon and couldn’t.

«You have to tie the leaves in a knot,» Drusilla advised.

«How is it?» Flora was surprised, but the leaves suddenly knotted themselves together. The wreath was complete. «It’s still not magical! I did something wrong!»