Chapter Text
“Find anything yet?” Mal called from the other end of the attic, her voice echoing off the castle’s thick walls as she searched through another box.
“Not yet,” Evie responded, feeling discouraged as she did the same on her side of the attic.
“Why are we doing this again?” Uma interrupted, paying more attention to sharpening filing her nails than the boxes through which she was supposed to be looking.
“It’s tradition,” Mal sternly reminded her.
“You get married one time and think you know everything,” Uma mumbled under her breath.
Ah yes, Mal's marriage-turned-divorce was often the subject of one of Uma's bickering insults. It was as mutual as a divorce could be. It wasn't that Mal couldn't take the pressure of royal status; it was that she hated it. Important decision after important decision really started to take its toll on her, the heavy weight on her shoulders making it hard not to question everything she was doing. Ben knew she was unhappy; they never had time just to be them anymore.
But this was Ben's birthright, and who was he to keep Mal in a position that made her so unhappy. They gave it a good 7 months before deciding to end things, and Mal had felt some sense of relief. She still would help with council meetings and similar duties occasionally, but for now, Ben was ruling alone... again. The traditionalists of the kingdom were upset, of course, but they should have been used to it by now. If there were one word to describe Ben's time as King, it would have to be unconventional.
Evie bit her lip at Uma’s insult, hoping Mal wasn’t going to bite back. Though their bickering wasn’t necessarily helpful, it was entertaining, and therefore the saving grace of her failing attempt at upholding a wedding tradition.
Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. The something blue had come most effortlessly to her, of course, and two of the others weren’t too difficult to find either. But the something old is what they were searching for now in the attic of her mother’s castle. Evie didn’t know what exactly she was searching for but would know when she found it, wanting to pay tribute to her roots from the Isle of the Lost.
“Maybe we should just call it a day,” Evie groaned in defeat. “I can just use some old fabric or something.”
“E...” Mal started, crossing the room to cheer her up, but only after shooting a glare at Uma. “We’ll keep searching if you want - all of us - until we find exactly what you want, okay?” Evie was Mal’s best friend. They had been through so much together - they were family - and she wasn’t about to let Evie give up on something important to her when she had been more than helpful in Mal’s wedding planning process.
Uma rolled her eyes when she was sure both of them weren’t watching. “Fine, Mal’s right. I’ll keep looking.” Uma turned back towards the boxes they put to the side for her to dig through. Though she was less than interested in upholding a wedding tradition that was probably rooted in misogyny, she would do it for Evie. But probably not anybody else.
Ever since the barrier closed and Isle folk and Auradonians mingled alike, the three of them had become fairly close friends, or they at least let Uma join their little girl group. And it had been nice. She never had many girlfriends on the Isle, just Gil and Harry, whom she adored, but it wasn't the same. Until Uma scored an invite to Mal's bachelorette party from Evie when things... escalated.
Sure, Mal and Uma had a bit of a past, but Uma thought that had been put to rest when she accepted the invitation to the party and the wedding. Combine a few drinks and the two of them being left alone, and it was a recipe for disaster (though it didn't feel like a disaster, Uma thought).
And then, they ignored each other, for months, despite Evie's best efforts at continuing the friendship, because, well, neither of them told her what happened. Eventually, Mal had been able to look Uma in the eyes again when she needed advice on a ruling decision regarding the Isle, which Uma knew the ins and outs of just as well as Mal. And fortunately, things started to get back to their pre-wedding normal, if not better, because now it was Evie's turn for a wedding, and no one was better at bringing people together than Evie.
“Did you hear that? She said I was right,” Uma heard Mal remark to Evie while she continued sifting through the junk in the boxes. Not a single seashell or gold coin or anything of value, just a lot of ribbons and fabric and crumbled up pieces of paper with failed potions scribbled across. Uma was ready to move onto the next box when she found something actually interesting at the bottom: a notebook.
It resembled a spellbook (or maybe some sort of potion recipe book?), but Uma suspected a villain like the Evil Queen wouldn’t keep those hidden away in an attic for so long. Brushing off the dust and dirt from the cover revealed no clue to Uma as to what might be inside, so she started to snoop.
“What’s that?” Evie asked, turning towards Uma, once her and Mal’s chatter halted upon notice of their friend's unusual complying silence.
“Some sort of journal...” Uma uttered without taking her eyes off the pages. Mal and Evie hurried to peer over her shoulders, skimming the contents of the book.
“Is this like a diary?” Mal questioned as they continued to read the Evil Queen’s notes, following Uma’s finger as it traced the words on the page.
“I guess so...” Evie wondered aloud. “It seems like it's from... before I was born? ”
The other two nodded in agreement. There was no mention of Evie on the pages, and she was the Evil Queen’s only focus, micromanaging the both of them to appear perfect to the outside world. They had grown a lot since those days, but it would have been obvious if the diary was used after Evie came into existence.
“My eyes hurt,” Mal admitted as she backed away, blinking her eyes to correct the squinted that she had been doing to read the small, cursive handwriting. “I think reading another beauty tip about making my eyes pop might actually make my eyes pop right out of my head.”
Uma and Evie snickered as they continued to read, stopping when Uma’s finger finally hit something interesting.
“Evie, has your mom ever lived anywhere else but this castle?” Uma asked, looking in confusion at the addresses on the page.
“Not that I know of...” she responded, squinting at the sheet. “Let me see that,” she urged, finally getting the notebook out of Uma’s hands. Her mother’s cursive wasn’t easy to read, especially when the ink had faded on these old pages.
Upon closer review, Evie could make out the names above each of the addresses, or well, lack thereof. “It says ‘Suitor 1, 2, and 3’ above each location listed...”
“Suitor?!” Mal exclaimed. “Like a husband?! I thought she never married.”
“So did I...” Evie trailed.
“Suitor?! What is this, Camelot?” Uma chimed, cutting Evie off. “Why didn’t she just keep a list of her hookups in her phone like the rest of us.”
Mal rolled her eyes. “You know they didn’t have that type of technology or magic after they put a barrier-“
“You can thank your ex-husband’s family for that one.”
“You guys!” Evie yelled, interrupting their quarrel. “Do you think one of these could be my dad?” She asked earnestly, looking between the two of them.
“Maybe...” Mal commenced cautiously, “but let’s not jump to conclusions.” Mal knew how much Evie had wondered about who her father might be ever since Mal shared the secret of her own.
“Yeah,” Uma agreed, siding with Mal's hesitation. “I mean, I’m sure the Evil Queen had more than just 3 men lining up at her door in her prime.”
Mal looked at Uma skeptically, appreciating her weak attempt at slowing Evie’s hopeful roll. “Right... and don’t we have to meet the others at 4? We better get going...” Mal continued wishing to distract her friend from going too far down this rabbit hole too soon. Evie had always been optimistic, but Mal wasn’t sure this was something to be optimistic about. The Isle had always been full of disappointments, and she wouldn’t soon forget it just because they had spent time away.
"You're right," Evie sighed in surrender, gathering her things as the other two headed down the staircase. She paused for a moment after she suspected they were out of earshot.
Mal pulled Uma down the stairs quickly, hoping Evie wouldn't catch up to them as fast. At the bottom of the staircase, she was met with Uma's confused look, gesturing to Mal's hand, still holding her arm.
"Sorry..." Mal stuttered, quickly letting go of Uma. "I just am worried about this address thing... Evie tends to get... invested in things quickly." Uma nodded knowingly. "I don't want this to go downhill, especially on her wedding day. Can you help me keep an eye on her?"
Uma sensed this coming from how things had gone "downhill" for Mal on her wedding day, but she failed to bring it up. "Of course."
Mal thanked Uma quickly and quietly as they heard Evie's footsteps following behind them, but not before she had shoved the notebook in her heart-shaped purse for good measure.
“I just have a few more designs I need to work on! With full focus!” Evie promised from the doorway to her office, knowing her fiancé would allow the privacy needed for her creative energy to flow, as she slowly closed the door behind her.
She rushed over to her desk and emptied her purse until she saw the journal again, already bookmarked on the page she wished to return to.
She couldn’t shake her mind from the addresses she found earlier. So many questions filled her head regarding the anonymity of her mother's suitors. It seemingly defeats the purpose of an address book if you don’t know who they belong to.
Evie huffed in frustration as she read over the 3 again:
Suitor 1
12 Mt. Cosmos St.
Suitor 2
89 Forest Ave.
Suitor 3
64 Shipwreck Lane
She’d never heard of any of these places - maybe street names had changed when the Isle was revamped? Shipwreck Lane sounded like it would be over where Uma and her crew used to dock, but her mom's outright disdain for pirates led Evie to believe her dad couldn’t be one. And Forest Avenue didn't sound like it belonged in the concrete alleyways of the Isle.
She read over the page again, but still, nothing clicked in her firing brain. It wasn’t like it would ring any bells for her anyway - her mom never spoke a word of who her father might be. There had been a time when she was much younger when she asked her mom these questions but to no avail. Even the magic mirror was blocked from revealing her father’s true identity; she had tried that method many times.
As Evie looked at the stack of wedding invitations on her desk, the white envelopes stamped, sealed, and ready to be mailed, her mind raced with a ridiculous idea. Before she gave it a second thought, she searched the desk for any extra invitations she hoped she had saved. Lo and behold, there were three... that had to be a sign, right? Except, she could only find two of the white envelopes.
Evie cursed under her breath as she sighed, clearly getting mixed signals from the universe about what to do. An easy solution, though, she thought as she opened the desk drawer looking for one last envelope. If there were one, she would do it; if not, she wouldn’t.
A few shuffles through the desk’s contents revealed a blue envelope with a black design in the corner, their original purpose escaping her at the moment. So this was it then - she was going to invite three of her mother’s old flings to her wedding in hopes one of them might be her father?
The knock on her office door caused her to jump in fright, and she hurried to cover the top of her desk in case he decided to enter.
“You okay in there? Anything I can help with?” Her fiancé's voice floated through the room, and Evie realized she had been in there for longer than she intended.
“Almost done- I'll come to bed in a second!” She called back sweetly, hoping not to give him any reason to come in, and luckily she heard footsteps heading away from the door.
With a quick breath, she scribbled the addresses across the blue and white envelopes as neatly as she could, sealed them quickly, and added them to the stack, the colored one in the middle so no one would notice the mismatch. Or at least, she hoped.
Evie scurried into her bedroom, spotting Doug sitting up against their headboard, a book perched in his hands.
"There you are," he smiled, tilting his book down. "Which designs were you working on?"
"Oh, you know..." Evie drabbled, trying to remember her current works in progress as she got some pajamas out of her dresser drawer. "I was working a little on each of them."
Doug nodded, though that wasn't usually how she worked. "Aren't you letting Dizzy take the lead on 4Hearts soon? Since you kind of have a big personal event coming up,' he teased, finally receiving a bright smile from her.
"Oh, really? I didn't see anything on my calendar," Evie joked as she crawled into bed, now in one of her favorite nightgowns.
He kissed the top of her head as she curled up next to him. "But seriously, we're nearly two months away..." Doug was worried she would get overwhelmed once things started getting closer. Planning a wedding was stressful. He had seen plenty of brides in the family getting worn out and weren't able to enjoy any of the festivities. He didn't want that to happen to them, plus they had a whole business to worry about.
"I know, I know," Evie reassured. "Dizzy will be great while I take a break. I'll talk to her about it tomorrow, okay?" She hated to admit that she was struggling to part from her business, but Dizzy helps out enough anyway, and as a now college Sophomore, she would kill to have something like this on her résumé.
Doug accepted her answer, marking the page in his book and tossing it on the nightstand as he turned off the light. As they both settled into bed, Evie felt lighter, letting her head wander to that romantic evening on the beach when Doug popped the question, trying not to worry about what she had done with the addresses and their wedding invitations.