The White Slipper: The Nevertold Fairy Tale Novellas, #1

To Sabrina

I couldn’t have inherited a better sister when I got married. Thank you so much for your sweet smile, your joyful spirit, and your faithfulness. You’re one of my favorite people in the whole world.

To the Honorable King Everard and Queen Isabelle…

To the Honorable King Everard and Queen Isabelle,

Once again, Peter and I offer our sincerest thanks for allowing us to add our stories to the Fortress’s library. I would be lying if I said I felt worthy of the honor, but since you have assured me that you wish to collect as many stories as possible, I am thrilled to add to your collection. The idea of having so many stories from all over the world in one place is astonishing, and the moment we’re finally ready to travel again, we will readily accept your invitation to visit.

As for this first tale, though I’ve voiced my doubts, Peter assures me the story of the White Slipper is true. It was one of Tinker Bell’s favorites, one of the few she was willing to tell the Lost Boys before they fell asleep. I hope you find it as amusing as she did.

Yours respectfully,

Wendy Darling Pan

Once upon a time in a faraway land…

Chapter

One

River smiled smugly as she pulled the shawl off her head and shook out her curls. While her disguises didn’t do her hair any great favors, they were a lot of fun. Almost as fun as the errand she was using this disguise to run.

Today’s featured concealment was one of her simpler ones, just a borrowed dress, a shawl, and her boots. If someone had looked closely, they probably would have recognized that such fine shoes shouldn’t belong to a peasant woman. But River was familiar enough with the ways of the court to know how to avoid scrutiny, something she could never do without a costume, of course.

But a simple working woman carrying a sack of linens was nothing out of the ordinary. And in the five times that River had used this particular disguise, she’d never once been questioned.

Sweat beaded on her forehead as she made her way down the dusty road that led to the river for which she had been named. It had been one of her mother’s favorite places.

The day was bright and cloudless and on its way to being extraordinarily hot. The dust she kicked up stuck to the bottom of her gown, and the wind that rustled the tall grasses on either side of her path mussed her hair. But in River’s fifteen years, she’d never felt freer, and she wasn’t about to complain about being a little dirty.

Ten more minutes of walking and a slight climb up the ridge later, the river came into view. The sun glittered blindingly on the water as it foamed and crashed merrily around the bend below. River made her way carefully down the side of the bank, slipping slightly in the sand until she reached the bottom. And there, beneath the large rock in the center of the bank, was her gift.

The leather pouch was nestled in the small hollow under the boulder. She’d brought it with her several years before, after realizing the rain could spoil the gift she was leaving in return that day. Since then, they’d placed their gifts in the pouch to protect them from the elements. 

She smiled now as she lifted the flap. Today’s gift was a round, sparkly river rock. River ran her fingers over its smooth white surface, marveling at how even the reddish-brown veins that ran through it were too smooth to feel. 

River peered across the rushing water and shaded her eyes. Had he remained this time? In the three years she and Avery had been trading gifts, they’d never come to the river at the same time. This wasn’t a surprise, though. Her visits to the rock weren’t regular. She had to wait until she found a way to escape, which was generally once every two or three weeks. And though, as a second-born prince, Avery had a bit more freedom to go where he wished, presumably his father kept him just as busy.

But the challenge of the adventure was worth the effort escape required. Never once had she been disappointed. There was always some little token for her. Nothing fancy or expensive. A pretty stone, like today, or a seashell from where the river met the sea, or a few lines of poetry or a paragraph from a book scribbled on a scrap of paper.

But perhaps that was what she loved most about the gifts. Her life was one of opulence and luxury. With a father bent on spoiling her and adoring courtiers at her beck and call--and now that she was nearly the age to marry, hopeful royals with unattached sons--all she had to do was mention in passing that she would like this or that, and it was hers.

These gifts, though… They were personal, and they grounded her in the life she knew she was hedged off from. 

I’m sorry for taking so long, she said into the breeze. No one answered her, of course. No one ever did. But she liked to pretend Avery was there, hiding in the bushes to see what she thought of his latest gift. She’d never seen him do so, of course. But as his father’s own palace lay just a few miles on the other side of the river, which served as a boundary between the two kingdoms, it wasn’t unthinkable. I’ve been taking lessons on how to properly set a table with courtiers who dislike one another. She laughed a little. Be glad you’re a boy. My tutor says only women get this kind of education because men don’t care enough to try, and if they did, wars would break out like the plague.

The wind picked up, and River was suddenly aware that the shadows had lengthened noticeably. She quickly opened her reticule and pulled the parchment she had prepared. It was nothing impressive, just a few lines copied from a book she’d enjoyed, a story about a sailor who had spent twenty years making his fortune for the family he loved back home. But as Avery had often left her bits of his own stories, she liked to think he might delight in such from her as well.

Leaving the parchment in the leather pouch, tucked within the crevice to keep it from blowing away, she prayed he would come to fetch it before the rains returned. Then she picked up her skirts and hiked the sandy bank again until she reached the path that led home.

River breathed a sigh of relief as she slipped her dinner gown back over her head. Her return to the palace had nearly exposed her when one of the pages had looked a little too hard at her face as she made her way toward the kitchens. The weight of his gaze had caught her attention, and when she had turned to look at him, his eyes had widened. But before he could say anything, the cook had shouted for him to get back to where he belonged. By the time he might have looked for her again, River had slipped into the servant’s passage and made her way up to her room.

Beth, she called to her lady-in-waiting, who was fussing over her tea in the next room. Tie these strings for me.

Beth appeared at the door and gasped. Your Highness, why didn’t you tell me you wished to change gowns? I would have helped you out of the other!

I’m perfectly capable of changing out of my gowns, River laughed. I just can’t cinch up the new ones in the back. Is my father back from his ride yet? 

No, answered a smooth voice as a stately woman in a long, peach-colored gown entered the dressing chamber. But he should be back in time for supper. 

Aunt Laura! River hurried toward her aunt, forcing poor Beth to follow, dress ribbons still in her hands.

I thought you were out in the town this morning, River said.

Oh, I was. I was out with my husband, actually. Then I saw the most interesting servant leave the palace, and I just had to know what she was doing. Aunt Laura smiled a little, though her brown eyes narrowed slightly, and River felt her heart drop into her stomach. She looked so much like the daughter of a woman I was once very close with.

That’s interesting, River said politely.

Thank you for your help, Beth, Aunt Laura said, coming toward them. I believe I can fix the princess’s hair adequately. I would prefer you to pour the tea for us in the sitting room.

Beth, about River’s age, bobbed a curtsy and went to do as she was bid. River’s neck grew hot as her aunt shut the door behind the servant and turned to fix her gaze on River.

Just how long have you been going unattended to the river, my love? Her words were kind, but her voice was sharp.

River sighed and turned toward her vanity. How did you know it was me?

Aunt Laura snorted delicately. I hope I would know my sister’s child, no matter what she was wearing. She began to brush River’s hair. So, she continued more gently, are you going to tell me what you were doing? 

River sighed. Three years ago, after my mother died, I would go down to the river and imagine she was still there.

Aunt Laura smiled as she began to braid River’s hair. She loved that river long before she became queen. Your grandfather finally gave up trying to keep her away from it and sent a footman with her instead.

River nodded. I went to visit it every week. But I knew my father wouldn’t let me go alone…like I needed to be. So I started sneaking out. 

And your father would have been right to worry. Can you imagine how easy it would have been for an enemy to kidnap a twelve-year-old girl? Her aunt pressed her lips together, then sighed. But I do understand.

I ran into Avery there a few weeks after I started going, River continued. We talked for a little. And after that, he started leaving me presents. She smiled in spite of herself. And I would leave presents for him, too. Nothing big. Pretty rocks or little sweets. Once, he left me a whistle carved out of wood.

"Well, I’m glad to hear it’s the