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Breaking up with a prince might have been bad enough, but to break up with a king? Mal was lucky that Ben wasn’t one of those bloodthirsty monarchs who took the opportunity to chop off a woman’s head for any slight or offense.
Evie had said it would be just a phase. ”Oh, Mal, don’t be so dramatic. You love the poor boy, and he loves you like you’re made of starfire. Trust me: this is just a small bump in the road. You’ll get through it.”
But Mal hadn’t made it through. When the last finishing touches were going on with the planning of the royal wedding, she had screamed at Ben for rushing her when this wasn’t what she had signed up for. All the scrutiny, all the looming eyes, all the press reels and tabloids plotting the demise of her marriage when she hadn't even gotten to the altar yet.
Instead of showing even a whiff of his temper, Ben just raised his hands as if she were a horse that had been spooked by the sound of thunder. “Just calm down, Mal. It’s going to be okay.”
She had just shaken her head. “It’s not going to be okay! I’m sick of being followed by cameras tracking my every move! Just what am I even doing this for?”
Then she realized, too late, the implications of what she had said. Ben wasn’t one to hide his emotions, and this time was no different: his bottom lip trembled, unabashed hurt prominent in his eyes. What had she been doing this for? For him, for his love. And now she had just made it sound like even that wasn’t enough anymore. “Okay,” he said, his voice soft. “I get where you’re coming from – and, if you need a break, then you should take it.”
Her heart had stuttered at the words. “A break – you mean breaking up?”
He shook his head quickly. “N – no, I didn’t say that—”
Then she had felt the tears surge up, a lump lodging in her throat. “But you meant that.” When he didn’t respond, she just shook her head. “I’m an idiot. I should have known better.”
“Mal—”
“The wedding’s off,” she said, loud enough for her voice to carry to the people bustling around the room and readying all the final preparations for what was supposed to be the rehearsal dinner. All the noise seemed to be sucked out of the room after her words had fallen. “And, for the record, I’m breaking up with you.”
It was petty, but that was all she had.
Without a second glance, Mal turned and walked out of the reception area strewn with all the flowers that were meant to signify what should have been the happiest time of her life.
*
Whenever Mal felt upset, she retreated to the Isle. Even though she had lived in Auradon for a few years already, the Isle was still the home she could never truly leave behind. Still, even with everything that had happened since she had stepped foot into Auradon, she still dreamt of days when she had just been Mal, Maleficent’s daughter, the defacto heiress to the Isle in all its grim glory.
Now, looking at the Isle, she realized it was changing much more quickly than she had ever thought possible. The storm clouds had gone away a while ago, and sun finally reached the shores of the battered buildings and bartering posts. People freely passed over the bridge between Auradon and the Isle, and she couldn’t help noticing some of the people looked like tourists who would have been easy marks for their wallets – if she had still been that type of girl.
As it was, she just passed them all while smothering a sneer of distaste.
By the time she reached her old warehouse, her cell phone had registered dozens of missed calls and voicemails. She contemplated just chucking the thing into a nearby trash can. But she stared down at the device while her hand shook. It was really the one lasting connection she had to the mainland. If she tossed it, then there was no way Ben could contact her . . .
Give it up, she told herself. You made your decision. You’re staying here for good.
Then she really did throw away the cell phone as if it were just another piece of garbage to discard.
*
The abandoned warehouse, which had once been home, was just as she left it. Spray-paint pieces still painted on the walls, shabby furniture still in their exact places, bed still unmade because she had been lazy and there were no servants on the Isle like there were in Auradon – it was the place she had called hers until the day she had gone to Auradon on a mission to steal a wand and let the villains rise up against their captors.
Then things had gone even more downhill from there, if she were honest.
As Mal always did when she was on edge, she retrieved a can of spray paint and began covering the walls anew, less to create art but more to relieve stress. She relished the fact that she could deface her own work and start the wall out fresh. Like erasing a past of burden, like rejecting a future that didn’t suit her needs anymore.
It was glorious.
*
By the time Mal had covered up one whole mural with fresh paint, she heard the gong that signaled someone was waiting to come up into the warehouse. She frowned at the wet paint on the wall. That had been faster than she thought.
She went down the stairs, expecting to find Ben or Evie ready to beg her to come back to Auradon for the rehearsal dinner, but another face greeted her at the bottom of the stairs.
“Well, look who decided to come back for a little temper tantrum,” Uma said, smirking up at her.
Mal just stared at the sea witch’s daughter. “Let me guess. One of your spies found me?”
Uma snorted. “Hardly. You underestimate how many people are willing to pay for all the juicy tidbits about your life.” When Mal didn’t respond, Uma rolled her eyes. “Just because the Isle’s open now to the outside world doesn’t mean that people here aren’t willing to sell each other out to the highest bidder.”
Mal shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. They can’t really hurt me here anymore.”
“You really became a damn princess at heart, didn’t you?” Uma asked. “Where’s that grit you once had? All the ‘screw you, world, and hear me roar’ crap?”
“I guess I was never that strong to begin with,” Mal said, her voice growing softer with every word.
Uma just watched her as if she were a child screaming at the top of her lungs. “You done? Because I have no time for your self-pity.” Uma cocked her head up to look Mal straight in the eyes. “You really think you have it bad? I still know kids on this Isle who don’t know where their next meal is coming from. You want to put aside your little protest and actually do some good in the world with what you have?”
“I broke up with Ben for good, Uma,” Mal said. “There’s no coming back from that.”
“Oh, boo-hoo, should I get you a handkerchief or something?” Uma made a mime of wiping away invisible tears. “Grow the hell up, Mal. Nothing is perfect. And you love that simpering little king of yours. What more do you want?”
“I’m not a pawn in a chess game,” Mal said. “I matter. My feelings matter. No one can take that away from me.”
Uma shook her head again. “You have become a princess. All you’re thinking about is yourself. As usual.”
“Uma—”
“I’m not here to be your personal cheerleader or anything, but you need a reality check. Have you walked around the Isle lately?” Mal shook her head. “Just think of everything you’ll be able to do when you become queen. You have an opportunity to do so much good, but you just sit there and pout because a couple people are taking pictures of you or spreading rumors about you. It’s so high school, Mal. You grew up knowing better than that.”
Mal sighed. “It’s not that simple—”
“It is simple. You’re just making it so damn complicated. You could be the difference between an Isle that falls into ruin again or an Isle that actually thrives under your protection. Don’t you see how much power you have?”
“Maybe you should marry Ben,” Mal quipped, but Uma’s face didn’t even twitch with a smile.
“Ben doesn’t want me; he’s always wanted you,” Uma said. “Now get back to Auradon already. Just looking at you is making me sick.”
Mal went down the rest of the stairs and drew Uma into a hug. The sea witch’s daughter stayed still as if she wasn’t used to such close contact without warning. “Thanks, Uma,” she said.
Uma patted her back once and then shoved her away. “Okay, enough of that. I hate when you get all sappy and huggy. Makes me think you want to be friends or something.”
“We are friends,” Mal said, and Uma snorted in reply.
“Okay, princess, you better go hitch a ride back. You’ve got a king waiting to marry you.”
Before Uma and Mal parted ways, Uma reached into her pocket and handed her something familiar: a necklace with a seashell pendant. “Something borrowed,” Uma said stonily. “You better protect it with your life because I’ll be the one to kill you if you lose it.”
“You actually have a heart, don’t you?” Mal asked in a teasing tone.
“Don’t get used to it,” Uma said. “I’m locking it back up in its box as soon as I get home.” Then she pushed Mal forward with such force that she almost stumbled. “Now go already! Get off my Isle.”
“Our Isle,” Mal said, and Uma didn’t even try to correct her.
Then it was just a mad dash across the bridge, back to Auradon and Ben and the promise of so much more than Mal had ever known before.