Bittersweet

By H. L. Davis

I snap my fingers, and the broom leaps from a corner and dances about the room. It sweeps up candy wrappers and stray autumn leaves that had floated into the shop throughout the day.

And what a glorious November day it has been!

My knees creak like an old floorboard as I sit on one of the cushioned chairs behind the counter, but my heart is filled with delight. Dozens of visitors came today. So many happy, beaming faces! A welcome change from the sadness that’s shrouded our kingdom since the recent passing of young King Janson. This morning, his widow gave us news to celebrate.

Queen Elise carries the heir to the kingdom in her womb.

Misty-eyed, I bring a mug of warm cider to my lips when the bell at the front door rings.

“If that’s you, Simon Perkins, the shop is closed!” I chuckle thinking of the lad and his penchant for candy corn, like his father and grandfather before him. I open the door with a wave of my hand, but instead of the freckle-faced boy, it’s the queen.

Her skirts rustle as she steps over the threshold and lowers her velvet hood, a golden circlet glinting on her brow. She glances round at the myriad of sweets housed in glass jars along marble shelves, pausing at the lone broom tidying the floor. Her gaze then crosses the counter to me.

“Mr. Magnus. May I speak with you?”

“By all means, Your Majesty! Please, have a seat.” I gesture to the empty chair beside me. It scoots back an inch or two in encouragement.

After a moment’s hesitation, Queen Elise sits, folding her hands diplomatically and raising hazel eyes to mine.

“My late husband spoke highly of you, Mr. Magnus. Said you once served as High Magician in the palace before retiring… two hundred years ago?”

“This is true. But I soon grew bored of retirement and opened this candy shop.”

“I’ve heard rumors that you add magic to some of the sweets in your shop. Candy that can heal, for example. Or help with anxiety.”

“Indeed. One of the last times I saw young Janson, he requested butterfly taffy to calm his nerves on your wedding day.”

A spark of a smile flashes about the queen’s mouth, then vanishes. “Mr. Magnus, I believe you know I was present at the time of my husband’s accident. At the time of… his death.”

I nod, tapping my fingertips in thought. “Does Your Majesty suffer from nightmares? I have vanilla dream-drops that can help.”

“No. I mean, yes, I do have nightmares, but…” She twists her royal topaz ring to and fro. “I see the accident all the time. Over and over in my head. The horse throwing Jan. His body landing on the ground. And then…” The steadiness in her voice cracks like glass, and she blinks rapidly.

Poor child! “That is a terrible burden.”

“I must find a way to forget it. To banish that awful memory forever.” Elise straightens in her chair, hands clenched. “Which is why I need a candy that will do just that.”

An uneasy quiet fills the room, the mahogany clock raising its voice higher with each passing tick-tick-tick. My spirit grows as heavy as a boulder. “That is powerful magic you request, my queen. Very powerful.”

“I’m willing to pay. Whatever you ask. But as your queen”—her voice deepens—“I command that you at least try.”

I search her expression, wading through its flood of determination, and detect the faintest gleam of doubt.

Yes. I will present her with the choice.

I clap my hands. Elise jerks in her seat, mouth dropping open as she views the items I now hold.

“Such a candy has already been invented.” In my right hand it sits: a swirl of white and dark chocolate tucked inside a shimmering paper wrapper. “But as always, those who purchase magical sweets must first read and sign a contract.” The creamy page in my left hand flies onto the queen’s lap.

She picks up the paper, scanning the small script. Her lips part, brows raised. “Why, it says this bittersweet candy will erase all my memories of Jan! As though I’d never known him!”

“I’m afraid that’s the only way. To lose the bad memories, the good must go with them. They are so intertwined, no earthly power can separate the two.”

Her eyes dart between the bittersweet and the contract shaking in her hands. “I can’t possibly give up all my memories of Jan. But…” She swallows hard. “How can I serve the people well with this dark cloud looming over me? How can I be a good mother to my child?” Tears flow drop by drop down her pale cheeks, marking the paper with her sorrow.

My own voice quavers as I lean forward and speak. “My dear, hear an old man. I know this shadow feels too great to bear. In my centuries of life, I’ve seen my share of them. But shadows, however large, only exist because they are surrounded by light.”

Queen Elise stares at me for many hushed seconds. Then with small, strong fingers, she rips the contract in two. The pieces drift to the floor. As the shop’s windowpanes rattle in the fall wind, she pulls her cloak more tightly about her shoulders.

“Thank you, Mr. Magnus. I hope your broom won’t mind a little extra sweeping. I’ll take some vanilla dream-drops, if you please. And a piece or two of butterfly taffy.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

H. L. Davis is a Christian, wife, and homeschool mom who calls the South home. She first discovered the joys of writing at ten years of age, and it is a craft she is delighted to pursue once again. When she isn’t brainstorming ideas and weaving words into stories, she enjoys reading, graphic design, and quality time with her family and friends. You can hear an audio narration of “Bittersweet” on the Finding Fantasy Reads podcast.

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