The real Mother Goose

The night was already in full swing inside the great hall, and Mother realized this would be no intimate dinner. The tables were already packed with men and women like herself, trainers, their pets leashed at their feet, or kneeling by their sides. Mother never had favored a leash too much, after that initial breaking in period, and she flushed at the looks her charges received when they walked in, the pair of them hand in hand, without any restraint.

“Mother Goose!” King Cole’s voice rang out behind her, a bold, full, brash sound, and she turned, already smiling and holding out her hand. He was a short, rotund fellow, a stark contrast to his wife, and the whispered opposite comparisons to Jack Sprat and his wife had made the rounds more than once.

“Your highness.” She curtsied, as was custom, and he kissed her outstretched hand as he told her to rise. She towered over him in her boots, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“So glad you could come! George has news of your husband, I’m sure you’ll want to hear!” The King waved over his shoulder, beckoning someone, and Mother felt her heart sink as she saw the man approaching. Behind her, Blue stiffened, both at the King’s words and at the sight of the baby-faced, smiling man threading through the crowd.

“Georgie Porgie,” Mother said under her breath, smiling in spite of the churning in her stomach as the man approached. Not many men could have boasted being shorter than the King, but this one was, and even more round. His cheeks burned bright red, but they almost always did with any little exertion, rather than out of embarrassment.

The man was shameless.

“They did call me that, didn’t they?” George’s grin stretched his face even wider as he took Mother’s hand and she winced at the oily, slick feel of it. “It’s been a long time, Mother dear. How are you?”

Not long enough, she thought, but said, “I’m wonderfully well. You?”

“I would have thought you’d be pining away.” George’s smile never wavered as he stood beside the King, the two of them like peas without a pod. “With Father being gone so long.”

“A few months.” Mother waved her hand dismissively, although her heart plummeted. It had been more like six months now, although she was loathe to admit it.

“He’ll be back any time.”

“I’m not so sure.” George’s eyes narrowed, skipping past Mother to where Blue was standing, Jill beside him, pressed tight to Jack’s side. His eyes lit up when he saw the redhaired girl, but that didn’t stop his mouth from moving. “He’s on some sort of quest, you know. Looking for some such thing on the other side. Who knows what? A wild goose chase!” The round man laughed at his own joke, and the King chuckled appreciatively. “He hasn’t been seen anywhere near the portal in months. Gone, they say, I’m afraid to report.” George shook his head in mock sympathy. “Perhaps it’s time for you to start thinking about taking on a new Master, eh, Mother dear?” Mother’s breath caught in her throat and she saw the look that passed between he and the King and finally understood. She tried to speak, to defend herself, but couldn’t find the words. There was no way she was going to declare her husband dead-and she knew, the King could do it, could in fact do it without her consent, and give her, instead, to another man. George licked his lips, looking between Mother and the King, rocking on his heels in anticipation.

I’ll kill myself first, she thought, her jaw clenching.

“What think you of that, Mother?” King Cole asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“You’ve always needed a firm hand, you know.”

She swallowed hard, blinking at him in disbelief. He couldn’t possibly believe that George-flabby, soft-bellied, soft-handed, soft-minded Georgie Porgie-could possibly be anywhere close to her match?

“And George here, well he’s up and volunteered his services.”

“I’m sure he has.” Mother looked down at the man and fought the urge to kick him-hard-the way she’d done the first time he’d accosted her alone somewhere in an attempt to kiss her quiet while he fondled and groped as much as he possibly could in the short time between surprise and indignation. He’d wanted her then, she remembered, had asked for her, had even offered both stock and a great deal of money, but Father had won out by proposing a simple test of personal strength and loyalty-hers, of course. She had held out for the man she wanted, and she had won him.

So where are you now, my love, she thought, fighting tears. She couldn’t begin to imagine, remembering him kissing her quickly, saying, “I’ll be right back,” and then disappearing in a heated shimmer through the portal. Gone for a unique flower, something odd but delectable to eat perhaps. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d skipped between worlds to bring something unusually delightful back to her. But the longest he’d ever been gone was a week.