Luanne (Willow’s Mother) POV
I cannot believe the way this little bitch is acting toward me. I have taken care of her since her mother died. She should be grateful. I have all these children to take care of now with no help. She could help me instead of looking down her nose at me. If she crowned me queen mother, I would have money and a home to care for them. I already can see her plan. She plans to take them and care for them. She plans to leave me out in the cold. She won’t even let me have a say in how my husband is buried. She took care of everything. It is her fault he is dead. No one is to blame except her. She needs to take a long look at herself in the mirror. Underneath those new clothes, she is just a worthless piece of trash.
I watch as Lazarus gathers up the children to have them bathed and groomed for her. She wants them clean and dressed well. I guess she doesn’t want to be embarrassed by us. Here I stand in rags while they all wear new things. What about me? What do I get out of all of this? Do they not think that maybe I would like to look presentable when the council speaks with her. I would like to look at least decent when I bury my husband.
Prissy is walking toward me. Damn, what on earth could she want? She tries to speak to me in her sweet, slight tone. I do not care how nice she is. She has nothing I want unless she is siding with me on being crowned along with Willow. I should have a crown. I was married to a man who never took the throne. I deserve it. I deserve more than this pitiful existence he forced upon us. Why? He needed to protect her.
“Luanne, I thought we should get you something to wear to the funeral and for the coronation,” Prissy says.
Well, maybe she is going to offer me something I want.
“Is Willow okay with that?” I ask.
“Of course she is, dear. We need to have everyone looking their best for when the council arrives. I am sure since you had to leave so suddenly you do not have anything to wear to your husband’s funeral. How can I help?” she says.
Maybe I could play on Prissy’s sympathy. Perhaps she could convince Willow to make me royalty so I would have money and a place to live.
“Yes, my dear Prissy. We need to all be perfect for Willow. I know she has so much on her. Here I am, being so difficult. I am upset about my husband, that is all. I mean her no harm,” I say.
Prissy puts her arms around me. She begins leading me out of the dining area. “Of course, we all understand. Everyone is upset. This has been a challenging day. We will all get through it together,” she says.
I doubt that. Willow is trying to push me out. I am not stupid. I won’t let her. I will find a way to get my crown. I will go to the council. Indeed there is some way I can do this without her or her blessing. I need to be on my best behavior. I will show them what a good mother I am. I will make Willow look like the bad person in this scenario, not me. I did nothing wrong. I lost my husband. I need a way to care for my children. What am I supposed to do? Just go back to living in filth while the queen fairy lives in a mansion with no worries. Surely the council will see this my way.
I go with Prissy up the stairs. She leads me all the way. I let her. I want her to think I am utterly dependent on her. Let her think I am unable to do anything for myself at this moment.
“I have a lot of clothes. Pick something for now. I will take you to get a few things when everything is settled,” she says.
She leads me to her closet. I open the doors. This woman has more clothes than I have ever seen in my life.
“I can have anything in here?” I ask her.
“Sure, take it,” she says.
“I need to freshen up before I change,” I tell her.
She points to a bathroom. “Go in there. Use whatever you need. I do not mind. Anything to help Willow,” she says.
Anything to help Willow. Of course, why would you want to help me?
“Thanks,” I say.
I take an outfit from the closet. I just grab the first thing on a hanger. It doesn’t matter what it is. I need to look presentable for the council. I need to get the fairy council alone and speak my mind before Willow does.
“I am very sorry,” Prissy says.
I turn back to her. “For what exactly are you sorry,” I ask.
Prissy looks at me, confused. “For your loss. I am sorry you lost your husband,” she says.
Those words are disgusting to me. “Lost him? I did not lose him. He was murdered all because of Willow. He would still be alive if it were not for her,” I say.
Prissy looks at me with distaste. I know I have said the wrong thing. I do not care. She will not help me with the council or with Willow. She will help them take the children. I can see right through her.
“I am sorry you feel that way. I will leave you to clean yourself up before the council gets here to officially tell Willow she is to be queen,” Prissy says.
She leaves in a huff. I do not care what she thinks of me. For one fleeting second, I thought I could use her to help me, but I could tell she was on Willow’s side. There is no one to help me. I can use the children as a reason I need the crown mother title. I can use that to convince the council. Maybe I can bring up Brooklyn and how that is all Willow’s fault or how she did not even want to marry Lazarus. I can tell them how irresponsible she is. I can tell them what a little bitch she is.
I go into the bathroom to freshen up. I look into the mirror. My face is dirty. My clothes are old, worn out and dirty. I do not look like a queen mother. I need to make myself look worthy before they arrive. To hell with Willow and her damn crown. I will get my own crown.