Free Americana Fairy Tale by Lex Chase Page A

his own family’s home. The Hatfield Plantation was his home, and now it was his prison. The warty, slobbering ogres still wore their enchanted tailored suits that disguised their appearance in the wedding until just the right moment. Atticus was still figuring it all out as he went.
    If Taylor hadn’t run away, would Charles have killed him on the spot once he wed Phillipa? Would Charles then turn his ancient magic on him ? Atticus had been told as a child that his title not only made him dangerous, it made him a target. There was much evil that would take any opportunity to rid the world of Snow White. Atticus learned very quickly he had to be dangerous instead. But as a soon-to-be college grad and naval officer candidate, there weren’t enough Krav Maga lessons in the world that could prepare him for witches, wicked queens, and evil stepmothers.
    The heavy weight of the target on Atticus’s back crushed him.
    “And here we are, Your Highness,” the wartier of the two ogres rumbled. He kicked open the door of Mrs. Hatfield’s most feminine guest bedroom—lilac canopy bed, delicate white furniture, baby blue floral wallpaper. Atticus knew an emasculating insult when he was bluntly clubbed over the head with one.
    Without any sense of grace, the ogres flung him into the bedroom that would be his cell. He tripped forward, trying to catch himself, but only succeeded in tumbling onto the bed. The pillows bounced and puffed a vanilla scent. The ogres burst into gales of laughter as Atticus struggled to stand.
    “Sorry to offend your… delicate sensibilities, Princess ,” the opposite ogre said, slurring Atticus’s title as if he were slurping on it like a bone.
    Atticus’s face flushed with a mixture of indignation and anger. He sprang to his feet and then charged forward at the foul creatures. They stood still and seemed to eagerly await Atticus running into their arms. Atticus, on the other hand, collided head-on into a magical barrier set up in the door frame between him and the ogres. Before he could comprehend, he was flung back onto the carpet, and the ogres carelessly tossed his fairy godmother, Honeysuckle, into the room. She bounced across the floor, squeaking like a toy with each impact. The ogres once again burst into laughter.
    Honeysuckle lay still against the armoire and held her middle, and Atticus scrambled to her on his hands and knees. He scooped her up and cradled her to him.
    “What have you done to her?” Atticus screeched to the ogres.
    The creatures didn’t answer but turned away and chuckled among themselves.
    Atticus listened to them shuffle off down the hall. When he was sure they were gone, he smoothed a fingertip over Honeysuckle’s chubby cheek. “Godmother?” He then stroked her tousled hair. The neat chignon she wore for the wedding was now an unruly disaster of silver hair. “Godmother, please ,” Atticus croaked, and the panic took hold.
    “Not… so loud… angel…,” Honeysuckle muttered and opened one eye. Atticus blinked when she gave the most wickedly conspiratorial grin he had ever seen. She lifted her overdress, and hidden underneath was Taylor’s smartphone. “I got you a present.”
    “You’re brilliant,” Atticus said, taking the phone.
    “Yes, dear, no need to state the obvious,” Honeysuckle said and took flight. Her dragonfly wings rattled as she found the mirror on the wall. She drifted back and clutched at her chest. “Oh daggumdrops ! No one told me I looked such a fright!” Honeysuckle immediately went to work on fixing her hair. She snapped her fingers and frowned when nothing happened. She swirled her fingers at her hair, and nothing happened yet again. She grimaced. “I think we have a problem.”
    Atticus scrolled through the contacts on Taylor’s phone. His heart sank at his findings. “He doesn’t have any of our relatives in his phone…. No one. No names I recognize. The only Enchant in here is that Bunyan guy.” He scrolled through