The Kindness Curse

to always say her thanks. No matter who had been kind to her. No matter how grand or small the gift. She thanked her benefactors with graciousness far above their station, climbed into the back of the merchant's wagon, and fell asleep.
Oddly, she dreamed about the farmer family on their journey home in the moonlight. A star fell from the sky. The girls cried out with childish pleasure and made wishes for each other's happiness. They drove up the lane to their farm and found their dogs digging in the garden, just uncovering a small wooden chest. When the farmer pulled it out of the ground, he found it full of coins as silver as the light trailing after the star.
Merrigan woke feeling quite discontent. Perhaps it was just a dream, but she almost wished she had accepted the offer to go home with them. Were they so foolish they would have shared the treasure with her? With just a handful of those silver coins, she could have hired a carriage to take her to the nearest port and booked passage to Armorica on a fine ship.
Yet what good would it do her to return to Carlion, when it was no longer her home?
Perhaps she should go home to Avylyn?
"Oh, yes, return in this wretched state, to live in hiding and shame until Father persuades some majjian to restore my proper face and form?" She snorted in a most unqueenly manner.
"Awake back there?" the merchant called from the front of the long, enclosed wagon. He sounded far too jolly for so late at night.
In point of fact, when she climbed out from the interior of the wagon, Merrigan found she had slept the night through and it was early morning, that sparkling time when dew covered everything. She settled on the long driver's bench and allowed the merchant to offer her some breakfast: weak, sweet wine, an apple, and a hunk of bread spread with sweet, soft cheese. His assistants, who had slept on the flat top of the wagon, called down good morning to her and chattered nonstop about the town up ahead of them. It was much larger than the one she had left behind. They were sorry to tell her she was still several days of travel away from the nearest port. One said he admired her for following her dream to see the world, and he wished her strong legs and the endurance to see everything her heart desired. Merrigan thanked him regally, taking the blessing at face value, no matter how crudely stated. Perhaps when she had regained her place—and her face—she might send back to this crude little country and reward him. She would astonish them all with the realization they had had a queen among them, and didn't know how to treat her properly.
His talk of following her dream reminded her of her dream of the farm family. She asked the merchant about his friends, what sort of people they were. His words dismayed her.
"Aye, they're the most generous folk, and it seems like whatever they give away, they get it back double. Nicest folks you ever want to meet. You'd think there are majjians watching over them. They do something nice and helpful, beyond what an ordinary man would expect, then something good falls on them. When bad things happen, they take it in stride, and whatever they lost is paid back double. Like they're being rewarded for suffering." He nodded for punctuation. "That kind of thing happens to old Tom, regular as rain falling from the sky."
Merrigan made polite noises, and demurred when the merchant offered to tell her stories about Farmer Tom and his family. She had made a terrible mistake. She should have accepted their rough hospitality and gone home with them. They were such generous and goodhearted simpletons, she could have told them her entire sad story, and they would have helped her. They might have even pleaded her case with whatever majjian had taken the family under his protection, and mended her life for her.
That settled it. She had to go back. She asked the merchant to turn around and take her back, she had changed her mind and wanted to accept the family's invitation. He laughed for a moment. Why did people think it was all right to laugh at her?
"I'll be glad to help you, Granny, but I have my route to keep. People are expecting me to deliver what they ordered. You can ride with us, but it'll be more than two moons before we get back to Tom's place. Is that all right with you?"
What could she say? Of course it wasn't all right, but telling them that wouldn't do her any good. She didn't look like a queen, so who would tremble in fear of disappointing her? She thanked him and agreed.
At the next town, the merchant's big sons helped her down from the wagon and treated her to a fresh meat pie from their favorite vendor. Then she walked away without a word of goodbye. Perhaps she should have said thanks, but she feared they would try to stop her. Perhaps say she was crazy, like those brutes the day before. Merrigan set off for the far side of the merchants' square, where dozens of wagons were unloading, and pointed herself at a wagon that seemed aimed back the way she had come.
The world spun around her, the lights flickered and the ground slid from under her feet. Merrigan let out a most unqueenly shout.
Until you turn, you are forbidden to return, while ungrateful thoughts linger in your mind and pride in your heart, Clara whispered in her memory.
Merrigan landed on her knees in a patch of violets along the side of a tree-lined road. She heard nothing but the whisper of the wind through the leaves, and far off, the songs of sleepy birds. She turned around and settled on her bottom, drew her knees up to her chest, hid