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The air, heavy with the smell of marzipan, enveloped her like a suffocating, cloyingly sweet cloud that she desperately wanted to escape. How had she not seen this before? Why had everything seemed so ethereal and perfect? Had she thought that nothing could go wrong in fairytales?
The tiny shiny glass beads of tears quietly rolled down her delicate cheeks, and her hands still wouldn’t let go of the broken wooden doll in the painted red uniform.
“I am infinitely grateful to you for your service. I believe that the honor of saving a person of royal blood will be your best reward. You understand that a prince cannot marry a common girl,” the arrogant gaze of the transformed Nutcracker was cold. “Now, if you excuse me, I must bid you farewell. I shall see you later. Probably tomorrow. I have an urgent matter of state to attend to. So little time, so much to do. A new dress uniform to make, a ball on the occasion of my return to arrange… invitations to the beautiful princesses to send out...” the Prince trailed off thoughtfully, as if talking to himself. But Marie had not heard his last words.
Only one thought gnawed persistently on her mind. Had this tall, slender, impeccable young man with piercing blue eyes been her friend, hero and protector just minutes ago? Imprisoned in the form of a crudely made, awkward doll by evil forces, he rushed so bravely, so fiercely to battle the hideous monster that called itself the Mouse King. He repelled all attacks and emerged victorious! The curse shattered like a glass ornament that falls from a decorated Christmas tree but her noble knight seemed to have vanished with it…
Marie felt something invisible, something fragile snap in her heart. Perhaps it was the belief in miracles the most magical holiday of the year always woke in her. Would she ever find it again?
The beautiful Christmas tree with toys around it now seemed a fake cardboard stage property, gingerbread and striped sugar canes swaying indifferently, no longer beckoning her. Even the snow slowly drifting down from the vanilla skies and landing on her lips tasted sickeningly sweet. She wanted to get out of this marzipan-glazed kingdom with its soulless inhabitants as soon as possible and forget it forever. Dazed and confused, Marie looked around and realized that she did not know how to get back.
The girl settled under the fir branches, the deep resinous aroma of which somewhat masked the haunting, pervading sweet smell. She clutched the pieces of what had been her Christmas present to her chest, and wept softly and bitterly.
The exhaustion got better of her before she even noticed — so much she had experienced today in this astonishing magical world. Suddenly, through the daze, she felt a light, almost weightless touch to her cheeks — someone was carefully wiping her tears. She opened the heavy eyelids, meeting the familiar dear gaze. Eyes the color of a transparent magic emerald stared back at her.
“Master Drosselmeier, it’s you!”
The wizard smiled sadly and touched her cheeks with his handkerchief again, seeing the new tracks left by tears.
“That’s better. As you see, I am here, Marie. Don’t cry. Now we shall go back and everything will be as it was before.”
“No, nothing will be the same again.”
“But why?”
“I think my heart is broken forever, Master Drosselmeier. I never knew that clockwork princes could only love themselves.” Marie ruefully looked down at the broken pieces of the wooden doll in her hands.
“Sadly, magic has no power over people’s feelings,” Master’s voice was sorrowful and soft. “The Prince was spoilt and ungrateful even after regaining his former appearance with your help. He did not know his own luck and he did not appreciate you, Marie.”
The wizard took the girl’s hand and helped her out of her hiding place under the big tree. They stood facing each other in the glow of a thousand multicolored lights. Cold snowflakes no longer seemed artificial sugar powder, now whirling in the air, getting into Marie’s thick braids, falling on the gray curls of her companion. She looked up — she always thought Drosselmeier to be the tallest, the most handsome man in the world. And now she realized with startling clarity that there was no one wiser and more generous than this man. Ever since she was a child, he had been bringing magic into their house with the extraordinary toys that she and her brothers happily extracted from his pockets. But was she allowed to feel anything other than sincere and heartfelt gratitude for someone who was a lifetime older than her? Marie blushed and looked away
“What is on your mind, my dear Marie?”
“Something that will remain an impossible dream...”
“Who knows, sometimes the most incredible dreams come true. May I?” Drosselmeier took the broken Nutcracker from Marie’s cool palms and pressed it to his heart as if trying to revive it.
“Remember, Marie, it matters not who you are but what kind of person you are. This is the key!”
All of a sudden, she felt the air around them fill with a melodious chime, as if someone had set in motion hundreds of small invisible bells.
Marie looked up at the wizard again — and barely managed to bite down a cry of shock. His appearance had magically transformed and he now looked the way he probably would had they met fifteen or twenty years ago. His thick hair was once again raven black, and there were only a few tiny familiar wrinkles around the sharp green eyes.
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of thin, beautifully shaped lips twisting in a small smile, and asked quite earnestly, “How do you feel about salted nuts, Marie? Isn’t it time to get out of this saccharine dream?”
“Master Drosselmeier! How can this be true?” she still could not believe her eyes.
“The truth, my dear Marie, is that miracles do exist. They are in our soul, in our actions and thoughts. In the smell of Christmas trees and in the frosty air outside our window, in a joyful smile and a kind word, in the simplest things that we can give each other. Just like love…”
A shy smile blossomed on Marie’s face, and a spark of faint light flashed in cornflower blue eyes. She put her trembling fingers in his broad, warm palm. With him, she was ready to start the journey back home — and wherever else fate itself would lead them. They soon left the sumptuous room, and all toys looked after them with bewildered curiosity, hanging over from their branches, whispering to each other. Never before had fairy tales in their sugar kingdom ended so delightfully wrong.
