Wishes With Red Slippers

He had a tall, slender frame, like a sword poised for a duel. When he walked, there was a graceful, fluid quality to his steps, as if he was dancing with the air around him as his flaxen hair fell over his shoulders like coils of the sun. When he smiled, his eyes, the hue of fog and silver, twinkled with a secret laughter. But, as a king, he needed a queen. He wanted a beautiful damsel. He desired a maiden would would entertain him, who would obey him, who would satiate his lust for the touch of smooth, rosy skin.
A girl caught his eye. She had the soft, blushing skin he craved in a companion. A halo of honeyed ringlets seemed to make her glow, and her glassy blue eyes pierced him like daggers of ice. She was always dolled up in lace dresses and satin ribbons. Yet, this ravishing porcelain beauty possessed a few cracks--she was a seven-year old cripple, forced to hobble around with a crutch and a leg brace for her whole life. Whenever she sat upon the velvet seats in the dim light of the opera house, she boiled with galling envy as she eyed the ballerinas who twirled like feathers upon silk slippers. But it did not matter to the king. He made her a present, a present that, when worn, would let the little girl walk, dance, and achieve any of her fondest dreams. He tucked the present into a box with a bed of icicle-white tissue paper, and set it upon the pink satin covers of her canopy bed. That night, he would slip into her bedchamber, to see how much she would enjoy his gift.

Alyssa Van Alen curled in her bed with a smile that evening. After a lonely dinner in the nursery, while her parents, Baron and Baroness Van Alen, were somewhere outside the manor drinking and dancing, she found a plain white box upon her bed. She shuffled her feet against the soft red carpet of her room, edging toward the pink silk covers with furrowed brows. She opened the box.
Red slippers, made of silk that glistened like blood and rubies, displayed themselves to Alyssa upon a bed of ice-white tissue paper. Silk ribbons fluttered at the sides of the heel, cascading like the hair of a goddess. When she wore them, she was able let her crutch clatter upon the floor. She could dance as gracefully as renowned ballerinas, and could watch herself twirl in the mirror. But without them, without her crutch, she crumpled to the ground, like the left-legged cripple she had always been. But she went to sleep in peace, knowing that she could wear the red shoes whenever she wanted.
"You're an angel with those red slippers."
An unfamiliar voice kissed Alyssa's right ear with a wave of sultry breaths. Fluttering open her eyes, she gasped when she saw a young man resting his chin upon his folded arms. His deep-set eyes sparkled like silver, and thick flaxen hair fell to his broad shoulders. He seemed to be a prince chiseled out of sunlight as he smiled warmly at her.
"Who are you?" Alyssa's warm sheets slipped from her shoulders as she sat up.
"King Mephisto." His voice was rich and deep, like dark chocolate. He dangled the slippers from his slender fingers. "You love them, don't you?"
"Yes!" Alyssa shuffled forward to snatch them, but Mephisto shifted them away from her reach. He grinned like a trickster wolf.
"If you want them forever, there are some promises you must keep."
"Oh, I'll keep my promises!" squeaked Alyssa, bobbing upon her knees on the mattress.
"To keep the shoes, you must marry me and become my queen. You will be the Queen of my kingdom, Eromancia. You will be able to have whatever you wish, but you must obey my every request."
"I'll marry you," pledged Alyssa, her fists clutched before her heart. She had always dreamed of this. She had read stories of princes who fell in love with beautiful maidens and took them to their kingdoms to marry them. This was the romantic eternity she longed for.
Mephisto drew his sword from his chained belt. It was a long, slender weapon, with a gold hilt carved into the head of a lion. Its mane was stubbed with rubies and emeralds.
"I, King Mephisto of Eromancia, pledge to take Alyssa Van Alen as my queen. From this day forth we shall remain in this union with conjugal bliss. I swear my fidelity with my blood."
He deftly slipped the blade through his left palm. The flashing sword almost looked like water sliding through his hand, save for the fact that burning blood flew from his weapon like an explosion of fire.
Alyssa gasped--the windows of her room clattered open as wind roared into her room. It caught itself in her hair, in her thin nightgown, stabbing her skin with its chill. It scattered Mephisto's blood into the gusty air, carrying the scarlet droplets like a rain of rubies. She barely noticed that the wind had ceased when Mephisto's warm hands grasped her right hand. He kissed it, his warm lips like silk as he caressed her smooth, delicate hand, which was barely larger than the size of his palm.
"Sleep, my Queen." Mephisto's deep voice lulled her like a sensual lullaby. He brushed his lips against Alyssa's forehead. His breath was like honey. "Sleep, and you will wake up in the Kingdom of Eromancia." As Alyssa lay back in bed, she closed her eyes. Mephisto pursed his lips into a kiss on her forehead. Then, he slithered down to kiss both of her rosy cheeks. Finally, he lowered himself to her lips. Soon, she would no longer breathe in his hapless world.

There were vague flashes of a cheering wedding party, spiced candles, lace veils and pearls, and rose petals showered upon a velvet bed. It all felt like memories that twirled before her eyes, only to be forgotten in a forest of the past. But then, she felt the touch of warm lips, and tongue that swirled around the tip of her own.
"Welcome to Eromancia, my Queen Alyssa."
Alyssa's eyes fluttered open. Mephisto stood over her, dressed in a blue, gold-buttoned coat, leather boots, and a red cloak. They were in a vast room, the walls painted to mimic an evergreen forest with deer and bluebirds. She had slept beneath warm velvet sheets of a rich violet hue, dressed in a thin, floor-length nightgown hemmed with lace.
"Come before the mirror." Mephisto took Alyssa by the hand to a tall, gilded mirror framed with gold nymphs. She gasped; she was now a tall, slender young woman, no longer the child she was in the world she had come from. Her ringlets grew to the middle of her straight back, and her face had become elongated. Yet, she still had her wide blue eyes and rosy cheeks. A group of maids, all dressed in bright hues that evoked spring flowers, gathered around Alyssa. They smiled and curtsied to her, their youthful faces glowing like a garden of fresh blossoms. They dressed her in a sapphire silk gown that clung to her form, and trailed into a train behind her. After clasping a diamond necklace around her neck, they scurried from the room as Mephisto returned. He beamed at her reflection, and wrapped his warm, muscled arms around her sylph-like waist. Before the mirror, they appeared to be in a loving marriage.
"Are you ready for your first order from me?" Mephisto gently nibbled the tip of her right ear.
"Yes." All Alyssa could really notice was the giddiness that bubbled from deep within her at her husband's intimate touch.
He brushed his lips against her ear, whispering, "Bear me a son as our first child."
Alyssa's eyes snapped wide open. She gawked at Mephisto in their reflection. He merely shot her a glowering smile. "Why must a son be our first child?"
"Every king want sons," said Mephisto. "After all, someone has to rule Eromancia when I'm gone."
"What if I have a daughter?"
Mephisto swung Alyssa around, digging his fingers into her shoulders. Bewildered, Alyssa looked up at him, forced to meet his stabbing glare. She had never seen him look so stern.
"No daughters!" Mephisto growled. "I want sons, and only sons. Besides, when women are with child, they become bloated. They are no longer beautiful. With no son, I may leave you for one of your pretty maids."
"But I'm your wife!" cried Alyssa. "Your queen! You can't be with other women!'
Mephisto laughed. Unlike any other time Alyssa had heard him laugh, he now sounded harsh and grating.
"Oh, Alyssa, you are so naive. You really are a child in a woman's body. Men only look for a woman who can please them the most. You're beautiful, Alyssa, and simply endearing. But if you can bear me a son, my fidelity to you shall be consummated." He kissed her on the lips. "Come to bed with me, my love. We cannot delay the duties of man and wife, can we?"

Alyssa was now the vessel for the child in her body. Even though she wore the red shoes and could walk, leap, and dance, she could not help but to eye her maids with suspicion and jealousy. They all wore tight, embroidered dresses that fell to the floor and accentuated each graceful curve of their bodies. Their hair were all different hues, ranging from shining gold to burning red to sensuous black, all braided in intricate fashions, sometimes woven with flowers from the palace garden. Sometimes, when she dined with her husband, or when she met with her husband in their royal living quarters, she would see Mephisto gaze at one of the maids. Sometimes, the maid would return his gaze. When this happened, Alyssa scorched with envy. Here she was, playing the role of a dutiful wife, and Mephisto's eyes would wander to other pretty faces.
The day came when she felt the stab of her child's kicks. There was an explosion of pain as she crumpled to the floor, clutching her belly. Screams sliced at her throat when her maids came to take her to her bed.
"Please be a boy!" screeched Alyssa. Her maids were dragging her writhing body through the halls. "Please! I'll be a good mother if you are! I promise!"
She lay on her bed, moaning and twisting. Blood was spurting onto the white sheets as her maids pressed cool washcloths to her forehead and stroking her arm with delicate fingers.
"Mephisto!" cried Alyssa. "Where is he? I want my husband!"
"He can't be here, Your Majesty," explained one maid, who was strangely calm in the midst of labor. Alyssa couldn't help but to notice how the maid's sea-green eyes contrasted with her straight brown hair, the hue of dark chocolate and oak.
Another scream choked Alyssa. She felt something wedged between her legs, something large and hard. She pounded the back of her head against her pillow as something that felt like entrails tore from within her.
"The baby!" cried the maids. "It's here!"
Alyssa emitted her final screech, a scream that seemed to stab every ear in the room. With a final push, there was a high-pitched squeal and the sob of an infant filled the room.
"It's a boy!" cried the maids.
Alyssa could barely discern time as she lay there, panting as the pain of labor slowly ebbed from her. When her newborn son was thrust into her arms, she snapped back to reality. The baby lay in her arms, swaddled in blue blankets. When her son tilted his head toward her, she saw that his eyes were wide, and as blue as the chill of winter. He had her eyes.
"You have done well, Alyssa." Mephisto seemed to have materialized by her side. "We have a wonderful son." He smiled down at the child, who seemed to be oblivious of his father. The boy only had eyes for his mother. When Alyssa smiled at him, he would smile back. But someone in the room did have eyes for Mephisto. When Alyssa glanced up, she saw the maid who had spoken to her during cries for Mephisto. Her green eyes were directed at Mephisto, her face tinged with a plead. When Mephisto swivvled his head up from the sight of his newborn son, he saw her. He smiled back.

The child was named Zephyr. He would play with his mother, and tolerate the caretakers assigned to supervise him, but he never seemed to notice his father. When he appeared, Zephyr clung to Alyssa, as if he feared his father would beat him.
Alyssa grew to despise her role as the queen and Mephisto's wife. Despite his promises, he would flirt with her maids. Although she hated it, he claimed he was only showing innocent kindness to please his lovely wife. Yet, the green-eyed maid was often present when he was around. Her name was Marian, and Alyssa watched Mephisto taking walks in the garden with her, tickling her when she served his dinner, and stroking his arms when they conversed in the halls. The red shoes held no powers against Mephisto--they were useless when Alyssa wore them, wishing that Mephisto would have eyes only for her. But she could wish for other things--when she wished for the attention of the knights, they all gathered around her, praising her for her beauty. When she wished for the maids who style her hair, they would curl and twist it into braids upon her head, sometimes adorning with feathers or flowers or wooden birds. When she wished for rain to cease, the sky would abruptly turn clear blue. But she was powerless when it came to controlling Mephisto's wandering eye. Perhaps it was because he was the slippers' creator. The slippers' power could do nothing against him.
"He pledged his fidelity to you with blood," hissed a voice. It sounded like a child's. Alyssa glanced down at Zephyr, who was cradled in her arms. His eyes met his mother's.
"Mother, Father is a bad man."
Zephyr did not speak with his lips, but with telepathy.
"Zephyr?" Alyssa's mouth dropped open. Zephyr was merely a few months old. He had not learned to speak.
"Mother, Father loves other women. He won't be faithful to you."
"Is he in love with Marian?"
"Yes."
Alyssa sank into the velvet chair she sat in. "I can't believe I ever thought that I hated my life. Back when I was a crippled child, I thought I wanted to marry a handsome man, have children, and be able to dance. I now have everything I had ever wanted. But I'm not happy."
"You can return to your old world, Mother."
"What do you mean Zephyr?"
Zephyr's pupils shrank. Two pair of blue eyes were fixed with one another.
"Use the red shoes, Mother."
"But Zephyr, I've tried," protested Alyssa. "I've tried to wish that my maids would die, that your father would love only me. But it's never worked."
"But if you wish to go home, you will succeed."
Alyssa inhaled deeply, her eyelids quivering as she gasped. She wished in a clear voice: "Oh, red shoes, please, take me home to where I used to be, before I ever met Mephisto, before I ever had the red shoes."
A violent wind blasted her body from the chair. She screamed, trying to hold onto Zephyr. But the infant shot out of her arms, disappearing into the stormy, whipping winds as Alyssa fell backwards into darkness. Her royal chambers had vanished. She fell through utter blackness. She heard the screams of maids, and what sounded like daggers stabbing into chests. She heard the screech of a man. She knew it was Mephisto, but it did not sound human. It resembled the sound of an animal executed for a meal.
Alyssa shot up in her bed. It was not the royal bedchamber of the kingdom of Eromancia, but the pink velvet canopy bed she had slept in as a child. She dashed out of her bed. Before the mirror, she was only a little girl, with plump cheeks and curled hair that did not grow past her shoulders. There was no sign of the red shoes anywhere. She sighed.
There was a knock on her door. Alyssa had no time to speak, for the door opened, and her mother, Baroness Van Alen, looked at her. She was tall and slender, but her face had earned a few lines over the years, although her demeanor and golden hair was still relatively young. She was dressed in a sweeping gown of an evergreen hue.
"Alyssa, we have guests calling. Perhaps you would like to come downstairs."
After Alyssa changed into a white dress trimmed with pink lace and a velvet sash, she held her mother's hand as her mother lead her to their manor's parlor, where her father, and a married couple with a baby carriage, sat with cups of tea and conversation.
"My daughter, Alyssa," introduced Baroness Van Alen.
The married couple acknowledged Alyssa with smiles and nods. But the baby carriage, which was blue silk with large brass wheels, suddenly shook. Doll-sized hands gripped the sides of the carriage, hoisting up the body of a baby. An infant boy, with ice-blue eyes that resembled Alyssa's, stared back at her. Alyssa could only gawk back.