Free Fairy Debt by Gail Carriger Page A

"Required uniform, I'm afraid," he replied. Clearly he'd gone into the profession out of physical necessity as well. He was extremely tall and decidedly skinny with a great beaked nose and a very deep voice.
    His hat was elegant compared to the one presented to me. Mine had only three prongs and was worn so that one always fell directly in front of the eyes. One of the prongs was yellow with pink spots and the other two were purple with white stripes. Mankind may have made uglier hats but I doubt it. Don't even get me started on the subject of the bells. The darn thing was covered in them.
    I put it on, and the accompanying checked green pumpkin pants and doublet (which, next to the hat seemed quite somber), and slouched after the Most Jester toward the Throne Room.
    "Your Majesty," the Most Jester bowed low to the king. Too low for he toppled forward, stumbled and sprawled flat on the floor. The assembled courtiers laughed appreciatively. "May I introduce our new Least Jester?" He waved a spade-like hand in my direction from his prone position.
    I had fairy grace at my disposal even if I didn't have working wings. I did a flip and two somersaults to end in a bow at the king's feet.
    The king nodded at me happily, and the princess clapped. Not every court was lucky enough to have a tumbling jester.
    "Why," said the princess, looking at me closely, "you can't be much older than me."
    I looked up at the human who held my fate in her hands. She didn't seem all that bad — a little chubby for a princess and rather graceless. Hadn't she been given any fairy gifts at all? I know my mother fell down on the job, as it were, but this poor thing was practically ordinary! She seemed to know it, too. She slid off her throne in the most humble manner, and bent down in order to properly introduce herself to me.
    "Princess Anastasia Clementina Lanagoob. How do you do?"
    I came out of my bow. Standing upright my head ended just below her waist. I reached up and shook her pudgy hand with my tiny one. "Bella Fugglecups," I replied. I couldn't give her my fairy name, of course, too recognizable. Aunt Twill had invented this one as an alternative. It was silly, but so was my hat.
    "I shall call you Cups," announced the princess.
    "Only if I can call you Goob," I retorted.
    The king seemed appalled by this impertinence, but the princess was clearly delighted. The statement made her laugh. Which is, after all, a jester's job.
    "Done," she said, letting go of my hand. "Will you teach me how to tumble?"
    I looked dubiously at her full white skirts covered in gold beads and silver embroidery.
    "Now? If you insist, but I hope your under-things are as attractive as your outer ones."
    The princess laughed again. The rest of the court gasped in shock. The Most Jester made a frantic sawing motion across his neck. I had no idea what he was on about.
    "Anastasia Clementina, I forbid such an undertaking!" The king rose from his throne and glowered down at the two of us. He was a large sort of human, full of hair, and prone to some kind of disease that made his face go all red and splotchy. It was doing so now.
    "Please Daddy," the princess turned big muddy brown eyes on her father. Cow eyes. "I'll change my outfit."
    The king sighed.
    What I didn't know then was that the princess rarely took an interest in, or asked for, anything. When she did, her requests carried more power. It's a good approach to life, generally gets one what one wants. (So long as one doesn't "want" too often.) I would come to appreciate this character trait over the course of my association with Princess Goob, for all too often we fairies are on the receiving end of demanding humans. Take Cinderella for example – with her gown, and her coach, and her glass slippers , and on and on. I mean, really! But, I digress.
    "Very well." The king ceded defeat. He looked at me. "You don't mind?"
    I tilted my head way back. "It is my honor to serve Your Majesty." What else could I have said?
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