A tempest howled outside the council hall, rattling the window panes. Yet the dozen hooded figures seated along the round table paid it no heed. A warm silence had settled over the room, each member waiting for someone else to break it.

  Then Fulvio threw his arms up. “The queen’s a bitch is all I’m saying.”

  “Language!” Nigel said.

  “Apologies, your grace, let me rephrase.” Fulvio shuffled on his cushion and tightened his cloak. “The queen’s a witch is all I’m saying.”

  “She’s hardly the first woman to ask for an annulment.”

  “She’s not any old cat, she’s the damn Queen of Brannia,” Claudette said. “Besides, the request is nonsense, they’ve been together for barely a month. What could possibly be the problem with this one?”

  Francis furrowed his brow and shook his head. “You are all missing the point. Regardless of whether her appeal has technical basis, the fact she dared file it undermines our authority.”

  “Hear, hear,” said the other council members, rapping their knuckles on the wood.

  Nigel sighed. “Still, I don’t see the harm in granting the annulment.”

  Fulvio guffawed. “First it’s an annulment, then we’ll be legalizing divorce.”

  “Er…”

  Francis squinted at Nigel. “Have you forgotten what happened to her previous husband?”

  How could he? Nigel had presided over the man’s baptism, wedding, and funeral. “That was a different situation,” he said.

  Claudette cocked an eyebrow. “Is it really? His Highness mysteriously dying in his sleep… of a knife to the throat.”

  “What are you—“

  The doors slammed open, and Nigel jumped out of his seat. He turned to the door, but no one was there — until his eyes glanced downward at the two little girls, that is.

  The girl in the fairy tutu was swinging a wand at the other girl whose pointy ears poked out from underneath the devil mask she was wearing. The cardinals yelped and squealed as the girls chased each other around the room, ducking under the tables and leaping over chairs.

  When they passed behind Nigel, he swept up the girl in the devil mask and set her on his lap. He lifted the mask and waggled a finger over her nose. “What did I tell you about disturbing Daddy when he’s in a meeting?”

  Alice blushed.

  “What on Irth is going on?” said Francis, on his feet. His eyes widened in horror at the little girl sitting on Nigel’s lap. “Is that an… elf?”

  “It is,” said Claudette with a smirk. “It’s his daughter, in fact.”

  “I see.” Francis calmed down for half a second before his face contorted again into a scrawl. “What’s a High Priest doing with a daughter?”

  “Relax, old man, she’s adopted,” said Fulvio.

  The other little girl, Francesca (aka The Chosen One and Daughter of Greg), ran over to her Uncle Francis’s side. He rested a palm on her shoulder as he lowered himself. Francesca squeezed in next to him on the chair and folded her arms, mimicking his posture.

  Nigel tapped his gavel. “Brothers and sisters, let us proceed with the meeting. I put to vote the motion to grant Queen Antoinette-Lionheart an annulment with Leo of Osc. All in favor?”

  A few hands went up, including Nigel’s own. Alice looked up at him and raised her hand as well.

  “All against.”

  Most of the other hands in the room went up. Following the adults, Alice and Francesca raised their hands again.

  “It’s settled then,” Nigel said. “Let the record show the Church of Brannia hereby rejects her Majesty’s application for an annulment. Have a squire inform her at once.”

  Already, Alice looked like she was getting bored with the proceedings. She stared at Nigel with puppy dog eyes and said, “Can I have a pony?”

  Nigel leaned in and whispered, “Not now sweetie, Daddy’s working”

  “Please...”

  The other cardinals were eying him, some with amusement, others with annoyance.

  “We’ll talk about this some other time, I promise,” said Nigel.

  Alice pouted. “You always say that.”

  Just then, Marion’s head pocked in through the doors.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Marion, there you are,” Nigel said.

  “Sister Marion, how… nice of you to drop by,” said Francis.

  Marion’s eyes scanned the room until they settled on Alice. “I apologize for the interruption,” she said, her face flushing. “I should never have let them out of my sight. I take full responsibility.”

  “It’s alright.” Nigel looked at Alice “We had a good time didn’t we?”

  Alice nodded.

  Marion looked looked over the rest of the council. “They didn’t interrupt anything important did they?”

  “Nothing,” said Claudette, “just matters that could change the fate of a nation.”

  Marion winced. “Come along now, Alice. Let’s get back to your lessons. You too Francesca.”

  Alice’s lips quivered, and for a moment, Nigel feared she was on the cusp of a fit. Fortunately, she hopped off his seat and hurried out the chamber doors, Francesca on her tail.

  After Marion shut the door behind her, Nigel turned back to the council. “Now that all this business with the queen is settled, let’s move on to the next agenda.” He shuffled around in his papers until he found the pamphlet. “Ah yes, here it is, ‘The 95 Theses or Disputations on the Power and Efficacy of Indulgences.’ ”

  The chamber burst into chaos.

  “Blasphemy!” “Heresy!” “Sacrilege!”

  Nigel leaned back in his seat. It was gonna be another long night.

  ~~

  Nigel eventually did get her a pony. And no, it did not turn out so good.

  One afternoon, Alice took a rather terrible fall off the steed and sprained her ankle. Nigel panicked in the moment, but luckily, some nuns were there too to patch her up. Even then, poor Alice was quite upset. She lay in bed for the rest of the day, hugging her favorite unicorn-pegasus stuffed toy.

  Nigel had no idea what to do in this totally novel situation, so he kissed her boo-boo goodnight then promptly had the pony excommunicated.

  They woke up the next morning to discover Alice’s injury completely healed. Not so much as a scar could be seen where a gash had been the previous day. Nigel and the nuns were stumped. In the end, they chalked it up to elf physiology, though Nigel could never be sure...

  ~~

  That whole business with the pony wouldn't be the last of the odd occurrences associated with Alice. A few years after that incident, Nigel was once again assigned to preside over the queen’s umpteenth marriage ceremony and the subsequent reception.

  But on the day before the wedding, disaster struck. They were out of booze. Nigel had been so sure their wine cellar was fully stocked only to find out the bottles were filled with water instead. He considered locking himself in the cellar to wait for this whole thing to blow over. After all, her Majesty was probably going to lop off this new guy's head too, so what the hell did it even matter?

  "Dad, what’s wrong?" asked Alice who seemingly just popped up out of nowhere by Nigel's side.

  "We're all out of adult happy juice, plum," Nigel said. “And do shut the door, we'll be in here a while.”

  "You mean the thing you drink between mass?"

  "Yes, dear. Not a terribly big deal, but her Majesty will be pissed. And not the good kind."

  "You mean juice like that," she said, pointing to a bottle on the shelf.

  "No, that's just plain wa—" Nigel stopped short and picked up the bottle. Dark liquid sloshed within the glass. He inspected each bottle in turn; every last one of them was filled with the dark purple adult happy juice. He looked at the wine then back at her then back at the wine then back to her.

  He couldn’t believe it. He shouldn’t believe it. And yet, it happened. A hundred contradictory thoughts barreled through Nigel’s mind all at once. He looked at sweet Alice who stared up at him innocently. A dark cloud seemed to form over his world.

  "Alice, darling, listen to me,” he said, “you aren't to speak of this to anyone. Do you understand?"

  "I know, I know, don’t tell Sister Marion you've been day drinking."

  "No, not that. This moment right here, right now. Don't tell anyone you were down here with me, okay?" He bent over and held her shoulders. "I need you to promise me."

  Alice nodded. “Okay.”

  "Good girl. Now let's get back up there before anyone loses their head."

  ~~

  Time passed without any new supernatural phenomena, but suspicion niggled at the back of Nigel’s brain. In the blink of an eye, Alice the little girl became Alice the tween, and he worried what that would mean given her… condition.

  One afternoon, he confronted her in her bedroom to give her The Talk. Alice was sitting cross-legged on her bed with Nigel pacing around her.

  “You mean, I wasn't brought here by a stork?” she asked.

  “No. Maybe. I don't know really.”

  "That’s not helping."

  "See, when a man and woman love each other very much— or, well, it could also be a man and a man or a woman and a woman. Not technically, but you know what I mean…”

  Alice looked more confused now than ever.

  Nigel stopped his pacing and sat next to her. "What I mean to say is"— He took a deep breath —"you're adopted."

  Alice blinked at him.

  Poor thing. She was in so much shock she couldn’t form words.

  "I already knew that,” she said.

  "You did?!” Nigel bounced to his feet. “Who told you?”

  "Dad, I'm not an idiot.” She gestured to her ears and then to his. “And Marion already told me about the birds and the bees, you don’t have to worry about that."

  "Then why did you…?"

  "I just wanted to see you squirm is all," she said with a cheeky grin.

  Nigel laughed. “You rascal.”

  “I learned from the best.” Then her smile faded as soon as it formed. "But… I have always wondered who my birth parents are."

  "Er…"

  "You do know, right?"

  A pause.

  “I’ll always be here for you,” he said.

  "I see." Her ears drooped. "The kids down in the orphanage don't know their birth parents either. I shouldn't have expected any different."

  "Sweetie, you were never an orphan. Not to me."

  "I know that. What I don't get is why I ended up with you in the first place and not in the orphanage like the others."

  Nigel thought back to that fateful day. It felt like a lifetime ago. He ran over the events of that night, of how she ended up on that altar. The details took new meaning with every revelation over the years. But more importantly, he tried to remember why he took her in in the first place.

  “Dad?” asked Alice.

  "To be honest, I don't know," he said at last.

  And you know what? He didn’t care. He didn’t care about the why or how. For now, they were just father and daughter, and that was all that mattered. Everything else could wait.

  Alice hugged him, her arms barely reaching around his stout form, and Nigel embraced her back. He never wanted to let go.