Page 56 of Cut Off from Sky and Earth
“Not in the fairy tale. I named her Ruth.”
“Are you doing the part where the prince futilely rides around the tower on a horse calling Maleen’s name?” she asks with a laugh.
“I’m on the fence. It would be an effective way to show how useless the prince is. He’s not capable of rescuing her. But he’s not essential to my story. So, probably not.”
She nods with what seems like approval.
“Anyway, seven years go by, the food runs out, but nobody comes to let them out of the tower. They’ve been forgotten. So they have to rescue themselves.” She’s still nodding along, so I speed it up. “And, you know, in the fairy tale, when they dig themselves out with the butter knives after three days, that’s basically the midpoint of the story.”
“Right. They free themselves and find the kingdom in ruins. They travel to another country, which happens to be where the hapless hero lives.”
“Then Maleen’s working in the kitchen, and the prince’s new bride forces her to be a stand-in at the wedding. When Maleen drops enough hints that the prince realizes who she is, the other woman orders her execution. Then, she’s killed, and Maleen and her guy live happily ever after.”
“As any good princess should,” she says in a wry tone.
“Yeah, well, I’m not doing any of that. My story is called The Tower, and it focuses on the seven years Maleen and Ruth spend in captivity. The climax is their escape. The book ends when they get out.”
“Why?”
I consider her question for a moment. I haven’t written the ending yet, but I know what I want it to be. “I guess because life doesn’t always have a tidy, happy ending. I want Maleen to have a new beginning off the page. And Ruth, too. Did you ever notice that, in the original, once they reach the new kingdom, we don’t hear anything more about the lady-in-waiting? Where’d she go?”
Alex furrows her brow. “I never thought about it, but I guess we don’t. That’s pretty harsh. She gave up seven years of her life for this woman. Maleen gets her prince and Ruth gets shafted.”
“Exactly. I like to think she was smart enough to cut ties and move on, but we don’t know. In my book, they both get their freedom. But most of the focus is on the seven years they spend together in that tower and the effect that has on them.” I suddenly feel exposed, vulnerable, talking about this. “Anyway, that’s the story.”
What I can’t bring myself to explain is that I can’t brush aside the seven years to focus on a reunion with the prince because I’m fascinated by other questions: How did the experience of being locked up in the tower change Maleen from someone who was passive and obedient to someone who dug her way out of a tower using a bread knife? How did Ruth change during that time? The captivity changed them, but they probably also changed one another.
Alex says aloud what I’ve been thinking, “Seven years in the tower changed both of them.”
We exchange a look.
The towers she and I have been trapped in have likely changed us, too.
The ding of the oven timer saves me from having to respond.
We devour the quiche, which tastes as amazing as it smells. Then, while we’re clearing the table, I say, “Oh, I used your phone last night.”
“Oh?” her tone is light and casual, and she doesn’t turn away from the sink, but her shoulders stiffen. “That’s lucky. It’s out now.”
“Wait, the phone lines are down?”
She jerks her chin toward the phone. “It was this morning. You’re welcome to check.” She pauses. Then, “Who did you call?”
“I wanted to say goodnight to Tristan.”
She shoots me a sidelong glance. “You didn’t.”
“I didn’t tell him about our conversation. Except …” I trail off and turn to the window to watch the rain slide down the pane.
“Except?” she prompts.
“Except I mentioned that he would have known you as Lexi Lincoln.”
“What did he say?” Her voice is low.
I turn to look at her. “He acted like he didn’t recognize your name immediately, which I find hard to believe—given what happened.”
She locks eyes with me. “There’s zero chance that he didn’t remember me right away, Emily.”
