Spice of Love - Completed

Sugar and spice

Prologue

"Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a prince," said Mary Little, peering down at a book opened in her lap.

"Really? How original," muttered the precocious child.

Mary Little frowned at Catherine, not liking interruptions while she read one of her own favourite fairy tales. She turned to look at her other child, the one more like her, who was listening on with rapt attention.

"Go on, Mama," urged Emily, "don't mind Cat." Six-year-old Emily turned a reproving frown on her twin.

But Cat only shrugged, already pulling out a volume of her own to pore over before bedtime. Cat didn't, as a rule, do storytime, but she saw no qualms in allowing her twin whatever pleasure it afforded her. Cat merely picked out her own selection of bedtime reading. Tell Me Why was one of her favourites, and while she had already gone through all three volumes of it, in much detail, thrice, Cat felt she could enjoy it a few more times before her curiosity was satisfactorily appeased and then she would move on to other interests.

Cat pushed her glasses up her nose and read on with silent concentration, forcing her weary eyes to stay open and stopping only when she neared the end. She flicked close the book with all the reverence of a priest holding a bible, and with almost as much care as Mary Little handling her childhood copy of the fairy tale. An odd enough tale of a prince who needed rescuing. It was a tale no longer told, a rare edition for that purpose alone. Cat could understand her care for the copy; she knew just how precious books could be.

Lifting her own book, Cat replaced it beneath her pillows, content that the knowledge she gained from it would keep her dreams drifting beyond the normal spectrum. She eagerly slid beneath her covers, her mind unconsciously seeking the sounds of her mother's soothing tones as she read on her tale, oblivious to having lost her only audience to sleep. Cat's lips twerked up in a sleepy half-grin. Cat had heard the story of the prince plenty of times, but she doubted her sister, Em had even heard it once. Em never could stay awake long enough to get through the part where the prince's inner torments kept him awake at night. But Cat knew the whole of it. She had listened to the whole of it, just the once, when she was only four, at her mama's first telling of the story. That once was enough; she knew the tale now as well as her mama. But, despite hearing it repeated in bits and pieces many times since, Cat never could understand why the prince couldn't just save himself.

It was a question that silently nagged at her over the years. She surprised herself in taking this long to voice it. Cat waited patiently for her mum to reach the end of it. Then she voiced out her concern, "Mama?"

"Yes, honey," murmured Mary Little, her voice sad.

"Why does the prince not rescue himself?"

There was the longest pause as Mary Little distanced herself from the sorrow that tugged at her heart. A sorrow this particular story never failed to draw her back into. It was almost a self-flagellation of sorts, her need to read this particular story, night after night, year after year, lost in her own interpretations of the words held within. Words that had taken flight from the understanding of her youth to a darker well of meaning, as thoughts of her missing son swept in, warping the tale. Her son, her only son, was as lost as the prince in this story, only Blaze Starr was kidnapped from the cradle. The prince, however, was haunted of his own inner demons. Mary Little reminded herself of that fact now before she turned to face her brightest child.

"The prince is lost in his own darkness, Cat. He can't see his way out."

Cat thought that through for a moment, but said exasperatedly, "But all he has to do is look."