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Chapter Text

Queen Alma Madrigal of the Encanto Kingdom was the epitome of a good leader. She was steadfast and sure of everything, and nothing went wrong under her sight.

Until now.

She could only watch in horror as Mirabel’s door disappeared, the candle blessed by Pedro’s sacrifice forty years ago wavering slightly. The guests and servants whispered in confusion.

“What’s going on?”

“This never happened before.”

“Did something go wrong?”

“Hours of work wasted…”

“Poor kid. In front of everyone.”

“Who messed with the candle?”

“I smell sabotage.”

Alma let go of her queenly mask as Mirabel looked up, tears welling in her eyes.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

She knelt before her, putting the candle to the side and pulling her into a warm embrace. A servant picked up the candle, clearly as conflicted as Alma was. Mirabel’s sniffles were not easy to hear.

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “We’ll figure this out as a family.” She wiped away the tears with her handkerchief, letting the lavender tickle Mirabel’s nose, adjusting the tiara on her head. “Don’t worry.” She stood and turned to the crowd. “There’s nothing to worry about. My family and I will determine how this came to be and what to do moving forward. Please, be safe as you head home.” She turned to the cook, who had been essentially kicked out of her own kitchen so Julieta could make her daughter’s birthday cake. “Please distribute the food prepared for the party among the servants. Even the scullery maids.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said, curtsying and giving Mirabel a warm smile. “I’m sure this is all for a good reason. You did nothing wrong, lass.”

Alma sighed as Julieta took Mirabel to the nursery. There had to be an answer for this. Mirabel didn’t do anything to deserve this humiliation. Maybe she was so good that she didn’t need any magic. That would be the best explanation.

But if that was the case, why did Casita make a magical door? It was the first time this happened, and it was clear that something was wrong. Each gift ceremony, whether thrown together last minute or planned elaborately, had resulted in her children and grandchildren getting gifts. She’d told Mirabel about how Pedro gave his life to defend them from assassins, though she toned it down, and she touched the candle and agreed to be the best she could be for the kingdom. 

Each family member was blessed with magical gifts, which they would use to make the Encanto a better kingdom. Julieta ran an open market where people could heal their wounds with her wonderful cooking. Bruno looked into the future to prepare the kingdom for threats and other issues. Pepa ensured the weather allowed for crops and dispersed storms headed their way. Isabela made flowers and delighted crowds with her creativity. Dolores performed beautiful musical pieces both through singing and warded off threats with her super hearing. Luisa used her physical strength to fix a broken home, build a new home for a new family, or even helped the servants around the castle. Camilo turned into anyone and everyone around him. 

Now, Mirabel would be the only one among the family that wasn’t blessed with magic.

Alma turned to Bruno, who looked very hesitant.

“Bruno,” Alma said, “I need you to look into this.”

“Uh, Mamá,” he said, “you know how often my visions can result in ambiguous endings…”

“Bruno, something’s wrong, and Mirabel’s in the crossfire. I need you to look into…”

His eyes went green, and the others backed away. For a moment, Alma played all the possible reasons. He rarely had a spontaneous vision unless…

Dolores paled significantly. “I can’t hear Mirabel anymore.”

“Nursery,” Bruno said tensely. “Now.”

Alma didn’t even wait for the explanation. She ran to the nursery, her heart racing. Had something gone wrong? She hadn’t seen Julieta after she took Mirabel to the nursery…

She found the door and tried the handle.

The door refused to budge.

“Okay, this ends now,” Alma said. “Open up.”

She threw her entire weight against the door, and it opened.

She nearly screamed.

Julieta was slumped unconscious against the bed, almost like she’d been hit by a bad spell or worse. A cloaked woman held little Mirabel in her arms, and there was a goose egg bump on her head and marks on her arms where she’d been pinned down.

“Put her down!” Alma shouted, grabbing the closest thing—a collection of fairy tales—just in case she needed to resort to violence.

The figure chuckled, and Alma froze in horror as she jumped out of the window. Casita tried to fight her back, but nothing could stop the figure from making off with Mirabel.

“Guards!” she screamed.

The captain of the guard ran into the room. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Take Julieta to the medical wing,” she said. “And after that, send out every man you have to find Mirabel. Leave no stone unturned.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Three guards brought Julieta out of the room, and Alma kept back the tears. There was no time for crying. She had a nieta perdida to find.

***

A decade passed since the brazen abduction of Princess Mirabel, and everyone felt the ripples, almost like a drop of poison had altered their paradise.

The family fractured. Julieta blamed herself for not fighting harder, falling into depression and only being assisted out of her room by Agustín. Pepa found it hard to smile, despite her family’s best efforts to keep her happy. Isabela was kept under strict supervision, as the heir apparent, and the others were confined to the castle as much as possible. Bruno secluded himself in his tower, always looking into the future and rarely joining the table. The other grandchildren got self-defense lessons just in case they were targeted.

And worse, Alma refused to let anyone in to help the pain. Each day that passed without Mirabel, cracks started forming. Blame was thrown around, and fights threatened the very foundation.

It wasn’t until a year later that the cracks started forming. Small, but persistent. They made webs in the walls where no one would see, hidden from both servants and family members. The Madrigals went about their day, but it was almost like a dress rehearsal.

And nine years later, it was close to collapse. But, Casita did as Casita did best. She protected her residents from harm. 

And given that a band of notorious criminals was planning to steal Mirabel’s crown, there might just be a chance outside the butterfly lantern festival to bring home a lost butterfly.

Chapter Text

Isabela hated council meetings. 

No, that wasn’t entirely true. She tolerated council meetings. She could listen long enough to determine if someone was being an idiot or if their plan might actually work. She actually befriended a lot of them and knew their deeper desires, although some of the more vocal council members wanted her to court their sons. Some offered their daughters for courtship if they thought she wasn’t into men. No, that wasn’t what she hated, though she could live without the remnants of disgraced Lord Velez’s influence.

She hated the dresses.

Okay, not that, either. She liked the more unconventional dresses, but those were just for family events, where things were more relaxed and she could be a little free from her duties as the heir apparent. When it had to do with the kingdom, she wore nicer, formal dresses. All light purples and pinks, something Abuela insisted on. They were well done, and Isabela didn’t hate the seamstresses that much to rip up their work. Plus, she was sure that if Mirabel hadn’t been taken, she would have been outsewing them by now, maybe making her own clothes. It wouldn’t be that far out of the picture.

No, that wasn’t it.

What Isabela really hated was being the face of the family.

Ten years of training—really, unwanted conditioning from Abuela—to be the heir of the kingdom was getting on her nerves. She really wanted to be wild, to join the guards in fighting the thugs that ruined the kingdom’s good name. She wanted to man search missions for her lost hermanita. Ballgowns and gloves and formal smiles weren’t her style. Dolores could have done it just as well, if not more naturally, but thanks to her gift being used to alert Mariano to thieves and worse, it was looking like she would inherit a throne she didn’t want.

But, the kingdom needed an heir. In the aftermath of the gift ceremony, everyone thought Mirabel would be the next heir. It would explain why she wasn’t given a gift. And why someone made off with her in the middle of the night like a coward. But Abuela needed an heir, someone to groom for the throne when she would pass on. Which meant lesson after lesson after lesson. The only exceptions were courting dates between Mariano and Dolores, a romance that seemed to be supported more and more. As Captain of the Guard, Mariano was more than able to court Dolores, a princess, and it was reported to be straight out of a fairy tale, something that bolstered the people’s spirit. Isabela dreaded the day when Abuela picked out a man for her to court, if not marry. 

Today was no different. Isabela got a reprieve from an upcoming council meeting regarding La Noche de los Mariposas to chaperone Mariano and Dolores on another walk, where they talked about the future. Mostly about what names would work for children. Mariano joked that he wanted five, but given how they looked at each other, it wouldn’t be a surprise if they actually ended up with five children. She wouldn’t mind being a cousin or aunt figure for them. She wasn’t sure if children were part of her future.

“So,” Mariano said, “not to distract from the future, but…” He turned to Isabela. “I heard something about Mirabel.”

Isabela paused, arching an eyebrow. She couldn’t show her excitement, not when the sycophants who called themselves friends were listening. She glanced at Maria Lopez, who had her fake smile on and a look that screamed contempt for her case. “And?”

“Well…there’s rumors of a tower deep in the woods. Abandoned. A woman goes there and back, with more food than one person needs. She calls out to someone to pull her up.”

“It’s probably a hoax,” Maria said loudly. “Come on, the heir apparent has more important things to do. Like dismantling that stupid lantern ceremony.”

Everyone else went quiet, and Isabela fixed Maria a lethal stare.

“Are you suggesting,” Isabela started, “that my uncle’s vision, which pointed to the lost princess, my beloved little sister who was stolen from us, be ignored? He saw that ceremony as the one that guides her home, and I would not want to be the person who suggests it be dismantled.”

Maria paused. “It was merely a suggestion, Your Highness.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I was chaperone, and I wouldn’t want to lose sight of these two. Go on about your day. And keep your mouth shut about your inane idea.”

Her entourage nodded and scurried away, not able to meet their eyes. Dolores smiled, and Mariano frowned.

“I never liked Maria,” he said. “Too condescending. Perhaps you should reconsider who you welcome in your court.”

“Yes,” she said. “Perhaps it’s time I weed out the ones who would drag me down.” She sighed. “Well, maybe this tower is a good place to start looking. Maybe they’ll catch this woman and get to the bottom of this.” She groaned. “I wish I could talk about it out loud, but Tía Pepa hates being reminded, and…well, I wouldn’t want another hurricane ripping through the crops again.”

“And Tía Julieta would spiral again,” Dolores added. “It’s awful to see her like that. She didn’t deserve that.”

“There you are, Isabela.”

They turned to find Abuela coming through the gardens, her crown still placed perfectly on her head. She had a warm smile, but the look in her eyes suggested she heard Maria’s suggestion.

“You’re needed for another council meeting,” Abuela said. “I can have Luisa chaperone these two in your absence.”

Isabela wanted to say no, to retreat to her favorite wine cellar and try to forget just how false she had to be just to keep up the appearance that the family was still united, but this was Abuela. You didn’t say no to Abuela. And she was the heir apparent. She had to be present. She had duties she couldn’t ignore, and that was a weight that she might crumble under one day.

“I’m coming,” she said.

“Good.” Abuela gave the pair of lovebirds a smile. “I do hope you’ll be joining us for the ceremony, Mariano. It would be good for the kingdom to see a new bloom of romance.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Mariano said, ever the dutiful man.

“Good.” 

Isabela took Abuela’s arm and walked towards the same council chamber, where once again, she would put on the mask of the dutiful heir apparent and play the role, smiling at the right words, saying the right things to make Abuela less anxious about the state of the kingdom or her own family.

Maybe she would never find the time to finally be free of Casita. Maybe she was doomed to play this role forever.

But that didn’t stop her from hoping.

Chapter Text

It had been a decade since Madre Sombra saved Mirabel from certain death. 

And living with Madre Sombra was a constant round of chores.

Mirabel didn’t complain. It was almost like a game. Sometimes, she would change small things so she didn’t do the same thing every day. And after her chores, she would embroider just about anything. There wasn’t a surface she hadn’t touched with the needle and thread, and her skills were exceptional.

Well, at least, the pieces that weren’t in the sun room.

In a decade of living in isolation, there were two hard rules with Madre Sombra. 

First was that the tower had to be immaculate when she returned. When she called, all projects had to be put away, food had to be on the table, hot and ready, and Mirabel had to be in pristine condition. Not a single strand of hair could be out of place.

The second was that Mirabel was not to enter the sun room without Madre Sombra’s permission. And she could never alter anything on the table. Mirabel asked once. And once was more than enough to knock that idea out of her head.

“I saved you from your family,” Madre Sombra snapped. “They would have killed you, and this is the thanks I get? No. You don’t touch anything in there, or I will handle you. And I will not go easy just because you can’t help but alter anything you touch.”

But, there was an unspoken rule that dogged Mirabel’s life ever since Madre Sombra brought her to the tower. No questions about her family. The same family that would have killed her if she came back just because she didn’t have a magical gift like the rest of them. Madre Sombra claimed that she braved the flames to save Mirabel, and her magic was more powerful than her family’s. It made it so Mirabel didn’t need her glasses, though she kept them hidden away so Madre Sombra wouldn’t take them away, and straightened her curls. 

“It’s to disguise you just in case your family’s search teams come looking to finish the job,” Madre Sombra said when Mirabel asked. “And I would hate to see any harm fall on you. And if anyone comes by, you are not to answer unless you hear my voice.”

But there was one aspect of the outside world that intrigued Mirabel. Every year on her birthday, differently colored lights appeared in the sky. Hues of blue, green, and yellow spotted the sky, all in the form of butterflies, her favorite animal. They only appeared that one night and no time else. She wanted to ask about it, but Madre Sombra made it clear that any unwarranted questions outside what she needed done for the day would be unanswered. So, she kept it to herself. She also kept a secret from Madre Sombra: a golden butterfly that hid from Madre Sombra when she was present and kept Mirabel company when she was absent. It was a 

Until the day Mirabel decided she was going to find out for herself.

***

“Beatriz!”

Mirabel perked up at her fake name and put her project away. “Coming!” 

She rushed towards the window, almost tripping over her own feet, and lowered the platform so Madre Sombra could come up. It was a daily thing, and it didn’t hurt anymore. In fact, her excitement was more than enough to overcome her anxieties.

Mirabel was turning fifteen in a few days, and she was finally independent enough to allow for Madre Sombra to be gone for a week at a time. Just as long as she brought back enough food for her to live, it was enough. Just as long as the tower was spic and span when she came back.

Maybe she would finally let Mirabel go to the village as a birthday treat.

After a few moments, Madre Sombra appeared at the window, her outfit immaculate and her hair untouched, as if she couldn’t be impacted by the weather or the elements. Her eyes, a deep shade of grey, gave the impression she was always scheming, even in a simple conversation regarding food.

“Ah, my darling girl,” she said, “you seem in good spirits.”

“Welcome back, Madre,” Mirabel said. 

Madre Sombra patted her cheek. “You’re getting a bit chubby. You’ve been eating well enough. Good.” She looked around the tower. “And you kept the place tidy.” 

“Yep. I even cleaned the sun room like you asked.”

“Good girl.” Her eyes caught a stray curl, and she frowned. “Ah, the charm is fading. Come.” She took Mirabel’s wrist and brought her to the sunroom, setting her next to the brilliant gold flower. She hummed a simple tune, and quickly, Mirabel’s blurry vision was quickly restored. Her hair straightened, the dark brown hue almost shimmering in the sunlight. 

“Ah, better,” Madre Sombra said. “Just perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a better daughter.”

Mirabel’s smile brightened. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

“About what, dear?”

“My birthday.”

“Ah, yes, that’s coming up.” She looked over Mirabel’s clothes. “Maybe I should look for better clothing for you. This seems a bit much.”

Mirabel looked over her outfit: a simple dress that was embroidered from collar to hem. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s too…disorderly. As much as your skills with the needle are remarkable, you are turning into a woman now. You will need to act like it.”

“But I like this.”

“Yes, but very few appreciate this.” Madre Sombra sighed as they walked out of the sun room. “A wild woman is never welcome in polite society. Remember that.” She smiled. “But is there anything you want me to get for you? New thread? Fabric? I think I have enough for a better sewing machine.”

They made it to the table, where Mirabel had two bowls of soup out, covered by rags to keep them warm. Madre Sombra took a bite out of her soup and nodded in approval.

“There is something,” Mirabel said. “I want to see the night butterflies.”

The older woman arched an eyebrow. “You mean the stars? You have a window for that.”

“I know they’re not stars. Stars are always present, but these are different. They only show up on my birthday, and I need to know what they are.”

“I just told you, they’re stars. There is nothing about them that requires you to leave this tower. Ever.” She frowned. “Another tenet of an unwanted woman: endless questions and a wild imagination. A proper woman is practical.” She attempted to recover the smile, but her eyes were hard. “Now, is there anything other than stars you want for your birthday?”

“That’s just it,” Mirabel said. “I want to know what these lights are.”

“Mirabel, they’re stars. Nothing else matters about these lights.”

“But they’re not white like the other stars. They’re blue and green and yellow. I have to see them! I’ve spent almost ten years looking out the window. I need to see them in person!”

Madre Sombra slammed her hand on the table, spilling soup over the embroidered tablecloth. A purple iris and red rose were quickly stained. “Enough, Mirabel.”

Mirabel stopped, her next question stopped in her throat. The intense look Madre Sombra gave her was one that she only saw once before, when she tried to enter the sun room without her express permission. It promised pain, and although Madre Sombra never raised her hand to strike, her words did the most damage.

“You forget why you’re here,” she said. “Your family would have killed you because their magic never blessed you. That’s all that mattered to them. You forget I saved you from the flames. They locked you away so that no one could help you if they wanted to. Only I heard you. Only I had the courage to stand up to them and save you. If you go to the village, they will kill you.”

Mirabel looked away. This had been the same line that did her in. Madre Sombra had saved her, had given her the love her family would have denied her. It was not her place to question it. And yet, it felt like she was always in debt to Madre Sombra. Always the child she saved and not the woman she was becoming.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just…I just thought it would be long enough between then and now.”

Madre Sombra sighed. “Ay, Mirabel, some people have long memories. Your family is among them. And…I know I can be intense, but I am that way to protect you. Don’t forget that. If things were better, we would live in that village. We wouldn’t have to hide. But the world is dark, and once it finds a single shred of light, it destroys it.” She smiled. “Now, I’ll be gone for the week, but I will find you the best fabric for new dresses. I might borrow one to get new ones made for you. After all, maybe the time is coming where you will be able to leave this tower. I’ve scouted a place for us that doesn’t involve all these rules.”

Mirabel tried to attempt a smile, and it fooled Madre Sombra enough. She prepared to leave, kissing Mirabel on the head and wiping away the tears. But it felt performative, almost like she didn’t really mean it.

Maybe there would be a day where she saw the night butterflies.

Chapter Text

Dia de los Mariposas was the most looked forward day of the entire kingdom. Started around Princess Mirabel’s disappearance, it was a night where the subjects prayed for her return, releasing butterfly-shaped lanterns into the night sky so that she might follow them home. Some of the more skeptical or jaded residents lost faith that she would ever make it home, seeing the event as a memorial for her, while younger children saw the night as a night of light and fun. 

For Isabela and Dolores, it meant planning everything down to the smallest detail. Everything had to be perfect. The food meant for the staff and the royal family couldn’t be oversalted or overspiced. The festivities had to go on without a hitch. The lanterns couldn’t be bent or have obvious defects. And worse, they had to be immaculate. Abuela always finished the night with a prayer for Mirabel’s safe return, and her tiara was put in a glass case, displayed as a memento of the biggest gap in the family.

But, it seemed fate had other plans for Isabela’s morning. She was in the middle of planning with Dolores—more like, putting up with Maria Lopez trying to singlehandedly plan the event so that the “more important” things were emphasized—when Mariano burst into the room, a look of pure panic on his face.

“Mirabel’s tiara!” he panted. “It’s gone!”

Isabela stood quickly, and her entourage tried to get her to sit down, just to be dismissed out of hand. “What do you mean?”

“Thieves broke into the palace,” Mariano said. “The Velez boys. They made off with Mirabel’s tiara.”

“The Velez boys?” Dolores asked. “But they were exiled years ago.”

Isabela sighed. The Velez boys—really, three grown men name Mateo, Juan, and Diego who were taught by their slimeball of a father that no one could say “no” to them—went on a robbing spree that shattered the entire kingdom and made a mockery of law enforcement. They were exiled when it came out that they were not just stealing jewelry and other valuables, but also assaulting the women they stole from, ranging from freshly eighteen to early forties. Age didn’t matter to them, just if there were a pair of breasts on the body. Their father tried to argue against it, claiming that the victim’s husbands or brothers should have been more understanding, but his threats bordered on treason, and he was executed soon after.

Maria rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. It’s just a crown.”

Everyone turned their gaze onto her. Isabela snapped the eagle quill in her hand, and the Sanchez twins scrambled to replace it, ever the mindless servants their mother trained them to be. The room was suddenly ten degrees colder, and Isabela’s vines curled up around her like a shield.

“Say that again,” Isabela hissed.

Maria was suddenly interested in her nails. “What I mean is that it’s most like a replica. The real one wouldn’t be displayed. Not after the Velez boys tried to steal a portrait of the missing princess.”

Mariano winced. That had been the incident that got his cousin Catalina wounded, since she had been making the portrait as a gift for the royal family, and had it not been for Dolores’ hearing, she would have been worse off if Diego Velez had his way.

“There was no replica made,” Dolores said. “A replica would have been made for Mirabel’s quince. Abuela never had it replicated.”

The color drained from Maria’s face. “Oh. I didn’t realize.”

“You’re dismissed,” Isabela said. “From my court.” She turned to the others. “Any other objections?”

Everyone else backed away, and Maria stormed off.

“Good,” she said. “Now, I assume you all know the actual plans. Put them in place. You’re dismissed.” The rest of her entourage left the room, and Isabela turned to Valeria Silva, who had come with the updated dresses an hour prior. “Get my traveling clothes.”

“Your Highness,” Valeria said, “it’s not proper for you to leave the palace so soon before the festival.”

“It’s in a day. I can make it work.”

“But, the Queen—”

“Forget the Queen for a minute. These thieves made off with my baby sister’s crown. It will not go unpunished.” 

“As you wish.”

She turned to Mariano as Valeria left the room for Isabela’s chambers, an area she allowed access for. “Cover for us. Tell the Queen we’re going out to help the villagers with a search before the festival.”

“And if she presses?” 

“Stall for time.”

Valeria returned with Isabela and Dolores’ travel bags, which had traveling clothes, money, and other essentials. Isabela kept her bag ready for the day they finally had a lead to find Mirabel, and today, they might just have it. If the Velez boys thought they would win, they would find that this time, they had two well-trained princesses on their tail.

They changed in their rooms and made their way to the gate, trying not to look like they were headed towards the forest. So far they were in the clear—

“Hey, where are you two headed?”

Isabela hissed as Camilo slunk out of the kitchen areas, telltale sugar around his mouth. Clearly, he’d been raiding the pantry for sweets again.

“You’re looking for Mirabel, aren’t you?”

Damn it. Isabela turned around, her fake “innocent” smile fading. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I want to come with you.”

Dolores frowned. “Milo, are those your traveling clothes?”

Isabela took a second look, and her annoyance turned to worry. Camilo had his traveling clothes on and a bag of pilfered food from the kitchens.

“I want to find her, too,” he said. “And I’m not five anymore. I can turn into literally anyone.”

“Milo, it’s too dangerous,” Dolores said. “And I know you better than anyone. You’ll cause more trouble and attention than usual, and we don’t need that. You need to stay here.”

Camilo looked like a kicked puppy, but he handed over the pilfered food. “At least take this. It can be my contribution.”

They managed to get through the village and the majority of the forest, following the tracks the thieves left behind. The Velez boys were not known for cleanliness, and thankfully, the windstorm caused by Tía Pepa was still just that and not a hurricane. No one needed a repeat of the typhoon that nearly wiped out the outer villages the night Mirabel was stolen from them.

Sure enough, the Velez boys were barely getting to their camp, bragging about how they would make a fortune off of Mirabel’s tiara…

A vine caught them, and they were toppled over effortlessly. A second vine grabbed the bag and pulled it over to Isabela’s open hand.

“Yes!” she howled. “It’s mine!”

All the Velez boys whirled around, their rapiers at the ready and sickening smirks on their faces. 

“Or not,” Isabela said.

“Run!” Dolores cried. 

They ran to a nearby cave, putting enough distance between themselves and the Velez boys, barely diving behind the curtain of ivy and scrambling up to the rocks. They held their breath, waiting until Juan’s voice muttered something about not getting to see “the family jewels” get some action, and then made their way further. A small clearing came into view, with a tower stuck in the middle. A light, unnatural fog hung at their feet.

“This is odd,” Dolores said. “I can’t hear them anymore.”

Isabela sighed. “Like, they’re too far away?”

“No. I can’t hear anyone anymore. My gift is…dampened.”

The elder princess frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“I can’t hear much past the tower.”

“Well, the Velez boys might be able to hear us. Let’s get in the tower before they come back.”

They reached the tower and found a pulley system. Isabela used it to get up the wall, Dolores close behind her and keeping her ear cocked just in case. They made it into the window and the main room, gasping for breath after a long chase.

“Finally,” Isabela said, coughing as she got up. “Alone at—”

A frying pan nearly hit the back of her head, and she looked behind her. A teenage girl with sun-kissed skin held it like a weapon, her eyes wide and her hands shaking.

“Who are you two?”

Isabela and Dolores shared a worried look. They’d seen a tower and thought it was abandoned.

They should have asked if it was occupied.

***

The plans for the butterfly lantern festival were coming along well, though she wasn’t too happy with Maria’s comment about the stolen tiara. It took two hours to calm Pepa down and another hour to find Mariano. If anyone could arrange a search party for the Velez boys, it was him. 

She found him by the entrance, looking a little clammier than before. Perhaps he’d been rattled when he found out who had stolen it. She didn’t blame him; on the contrary, had she been in his shoes, she might have reacted the same way.

“Lord Mariano,” she said, “you look unwell.”

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” he said, “but…Princess Isabela and Dolores went off to track down the thieves.”

Alma stopped. “No, don’t tell me.”

“They left three hours ago. Maybe four.”

Alma’s heart stopped. This couldn’t be right. If anything, the last person to go looking for the crown was Isabela. For all her attempts to be the Crown Princess the kingdom needed, Isabela was almost single-minded when it came to searching for Mirabel, outright hunting any lead like a madman hunting for reason. And for all her scoldings of Camilo being restless and reckless, Isabela was just as restless. She was just better at hiding it.

“Get search times to back them up,” Alma said. “And do not dally. This is of utmost importance.” She paused. “And…if they do find Mirabel, make sure they all come home in one piece.”

“I will.”

Mariano made his way to the guard’s barracks, unknowingly being tailed by Camilo. Alma didn’t say a word. She trusted Mariano, and the Guzmáns were exemplary, honorable men. They always kept their word. It was the main reason Alma was happy that Dolores was courting Mariano, albeit wondering if he and Isabela would have made a wonderful couple. Either way, her grandchildren were safe when he was around.

She just hoped they would make it all back. Mirabel included.

Chapter Text

Abuela trained Isabela almost meticulously. She went over every scenario, from possible hostile groups to even diplomats from neighboring countries. Isabela could answer a question and issue an arrest warrant in the same breath without breaking composure. She could also handle an attack just fine, albeit using her vines a little too much.

Isabela never thought she’d be on the receiving end of an intrusion. Or being the intruder in the first place. Having a frying pan shoved in her face like a weapon was a little unnerving.

But the holder was even more unnerving.

Isabela had been too focused on the pan to actually study the wielder, but now, she took another look.

The tower’s occupant had to be no older than fourteen. Maybe freshly fifteen. She was a little on the shorter side, barely above five feet, and wore simple homemade clothing, albeit with elaborate embroidery covering each corner of her skirt. She squinted as if she couldn’t quite properly see them, her eyes a familiar shade of brown. Her hair was straight, though it looked like the ends were starting to curl up a bit. And despite the bravado in her voice, her body shook slightly, especially her hands. A golden butterfly fluttered over her shoulder, its wings steady and sure.

She thinks I’m a threat, Isabela thought. She’s being defensive out of instinct.

“Who are you?” she asked again. “And what are you doing here? Did my family send you to kill me?”

Isabela and Dolores shared a bizarre look.

“We’re not assassins,” Isabela said. “And…frankly, we don’t know who you are.”

“Then how did you find the tower?”

“Good question,” Dolores said. “We ran into the nearby glade for protection from thieves.”

“We took something back that they stole from us,” Isabela said. “Trust me, nothing to do with this family of yours. Sorry for startling you. We didn’t know anyone lived here.”

The girl looked between them, as if weighing their words. She looked over her shoulder, and the butterfly landed on her shoulder, folding its wings. The girl relaxed and put the pan down. “Oh, okay. So…a misunderstanding.” She flashed a smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to come on so strong, but…well, no one usually comes here other than Madre Sombra.”

“Who?” Dolores asked.

Isabela arched an eyebrow. “Who’s this Sombra lady?”

“Oh, you don’t know her. She’s my adoptive mother of sorts.” She gestured to the chairs. “Have a seat. I’ll make you some tea.”

The girl hurried into the makeshift kitchen, and Isabela pulled out a few strands of lavender, allowing the aroma to calm her nerves. It was a hidden pleasure, something she actually liked to do for others. That, and lavender also helped mask the smell of chasing thieves away. Plus, for her distaste of pinks, purple was more her family color.

“I think she has bad vision.”

Isabela snapped up at Dolores’ comment. “I’m sorry?”

“The girl. She had bad eyesight. I saw the imprints around her nose. She wears glasses.”

“Oh. So she wasn’t judging us?”

“I don’t think she can see us properly.” Dolores paused. “And she resembles Mirabel quite a bit.”

Isabela shushed Dolores. “Don’t say that. We don’t know who she is. And technically, we did break into her tower. No use asking her if she knows where Mirabel is.”

“Still, she’s the same age, same height, same physical features. It’s got to be her.”

“She didn’t recognize us. I doubt that she’s—”

“Is there trouble?”

The girl returned with a tray bearing two teacups, a pleasant herbal aroma catching Isabela’s nose.

“No,” Isabela said. “Just…discussing some gossip we overheard on the way.”

The girl tilted her head, and for a second, Isabela saw little Mirabel tilting her head when she was figuring out the best way to sneak out sweets from the kitchen with Camilo. The resemblance was there.

“Drink up,” she said, pushing the tray in front of them. “Tea’s better when it’s hot. Especially up here.”

Isabela sipped at her cup, surprised at the taste. “It’s good.”

“Thank you. Madre Sombra taught me how to make it. Works really well with stress. And…well, other things. Bad memories, too.”

Isabela and Dolores shared a look.

“Bad memories?” Dolores asked. 

“Yeah. I get nightmares sometimes.” The girl smiled. “Madre Sombra saved me from my family. Said they were about to kill me because I didn’t inherit a gift or something.”

Isabela’s internal alarm started going off. Something didn’t add up. This girl had to be quite alone out here, and she believed this Madre Sombra had saved her from a family that was willing to kill her. It sounded too convenient for it to make sense. Something else was going on. Maybe they stumbled on a girl who’d been kidnapped by a desperate woman. That sounded more likely than a rescue from an abusive family.

“Do you live here alone?” Isabela asked. “When Madre isn’t around?”

“Well, she checks in every week,” the girl said calmly. “So, I get to embroider and do chores for her. Plus, she always comes back with gifts. And there’s plenty of food to last the week.”

“Sorry, but what can we call you?” Dolores asked. “I don’t think we got your name.”

The girl blushed. “Oh, sorry. My name’s…” She bit her lip as if thinking a little too long. “Beatriz. My name’s Beatriz.”

“Nice to meet you, Beatriz,” Isabela said. “I’m Bela. This is my cousin Lola.”

“Those are nice names,” Beatriz said. “And…sorry if this is too much, but what did those thieves take that warranted you two chasing them down?”

“My sister’s—” Isabela paused. “A family heirloom. It was handmade for my little sister.”

“And you got it back.”

“Yes, but…these are the Velez boys we’re talking about. They’re very dangerous. They assault and kill people for their valuables. Especially women. Doesn’t matter age or relationship status.”

Beatriz frowned. “The Velez boys?”

Dolores eyed her warily. “How long have you been up here?”

Beatriz averted her eyes. “Ten years?”

“And you never left?” Isabela asked. “Not even to go on a walk? Or for market trips?”

“Nope. Madre Sombra says it’s better for me to stay here.”

Isabela facepalmed. “No wonder you don’t know who the Velez boys are. They came into prominence just about eight years ago.”

“You’ve never left this tower in a decade?” Dolores asked. “That’s…concerning.”

“I’m not totally alone. Mariposa and I spend a lot of time up here, but I got a lot of hobbies. Like painting, embroidery, and even some singing. I’m really good with an accordion.” She sighed. “But…there’s one thing I really want to see.”

“Oh, and what’s that?” Isabela asked. “A play? A daring epic? A noble’s garden?”

“The night butterflies. They’re due in a few days.”

Isabela was utterly confused. Dolores frowned before lighting up. “You mean Dia de las Mariposas? You’ve never been to one?”

Beatriz lit up. “I knew they weren’t just stars. I just knew it! Madre Sombra always said they were just stars, but she’s not always right. I would love to see that just once in my life. It’s always on my birthday. Just my birthday. I just gotta see it.”

Isabela couldn’t help but empathize with Beatriz. It sounded like she had something worse. Isolation for ten years couldn’t have been good. And as questionable as Madre Sombra’s motives were, it couldn’t hurt to let Beatriz see the world outside her tower. For a moment, she thought of how Mirabel would get excited for market days and the treat stalls…

The butterfly started flapping its wings rapidly, and Beatriz’s smile vanished. She ushered them, tray and all, to her bedroom.

“Madre Sombra is coming,” she hissed. “Don’t make a sound. Just…stay here and stay quiet.” She took a second tea set to the table, straightening it up. Isabela closed the door but left a crack, listening as the pulleys strained. A flurry of a cloak followed.

“Good afternoon, dear,” a woman said, her voice surprisingly smooth. “I trust your morning was quite eventful.”

“It was,” Beatriz said.

“Good girl. Now, I think you need a trip to the sunroom.”

Isabela frowned. Was this a private room? It sounded like a secret. Two sets of feet followed, and an almost ethereal hum followed. For a moment, Isabela felt a strange magic around it, almost like it changed someone just enough for the person to feel it, but subtle enough that it couldn’t be detected by a glance.

“There.” The woman sighed. “Now, I did get you some more proper fabric for new dresses and skirts. I have the patterns ready. Is there anything special I can get you for your birthday?”

“There is something,” Beatriz said. “I’d like to go to the village with you this time.”

Isabela smiled. That wasn’t an unreasonable request. It almost sounded like a day out between mother and daughter—

“Absolutely not.”

Both Isabela and Dolores shared a look. That didn’t sound good.

“But, Madre, you always restore my eyesight with the sunflower. Surely, your magic can alter my appearance for a short time. That way, my family doesn’t recognize me. And if they realize I was there, then we’ll be gone.”

“Absolutely not. I’ve told you what will happen. And your family has magic. They’ll detect it and send their worst to make sure you end up in a grave. I’ve told you this.”

Isabela tried to think of any type of magician who would be that cold. The only one who matched that was one of Abuelo Pedro’s suitors, a sorceress princess who mastered illusions. It was said that her sister was found dead the morning after a ball where she flirted with Abuelo Pedro jokingly, and no one was able to find answers regarding it. The sorceress showed no emotion about it at all, disturbing even her parents.

“But, your magic is strong. If it can cure my eyesight for a week, it can cloak me. Besides, I can’t be up here forever.”

“Enough! You are not leaving this tower! Ever!”

Silence followed, and Isabela clenched her fist, anticipating a slap or something worse. Any previous judgment about this woman was gone. At this rate, an abduction was much more likely, especially with how hellbent this woman was about keeping Beatriz inside the tower. Beatriz didn’t deserve to be caged like this just because she didn’t get a magical gift. She deserved to explore, see the world, even fall in love. And yet, she was being held back because of something that wasn’t her fault.

Just like Mirabel. She’d been denied a gift for some odd reason, and yet, someone took her that same night. Maybe they thought the same way as Maria.

Beatriz’s voice was too soft. “Sorry. I just…I don’t want to spend my entire life up here.”

The woman sighed. “I don’t want to be the villain, mi milagro, but you are not ready for the world out there. You’re too wild, and the world hates wild girls. Men will destroy you. And no one will come to your aid out there.”

I would, Isabela hissed in her head. I would protect her. This woman is a snake!

“I know what I want now.”

Dolores looked ready to cry at that. She sounded so defeated, so…lost. Like she was giving up on the fight before it began. Isabela recognized it for something worse. Beatriz was making herself small so that this witch wouldn’t strike her again.

“And what’s that?” the woman asked, that false kindness grating on the ears.

“New embroidery thread. Blue and gold. I’m running low on those.”

The woman paused. “That’s a week-long trip to the market alone. Are you sure you can handle yourself for that long?”

“Yes. I won’t leave the tower. I’ll be waiting for you. Like always.”

Isabela and Dolores stayed in the room while Beatriz prepared a basket for Madre Sombra. Just hearing her say, “I love you,” to her was enough to twist Isabela’s stomach. This was wrong, completely wrong. Beatriz had even pointed out things that would have worked, and this woman shut her down completely. It was like she wanted to own her completely.

No, Beatriz needed to get out of this tower. If not a decade ago, then now.

Beatriz returned to the room, her eyes noticeably redder. Isabela guided her to a chair and handed her a lavender-scented handkerchief. Dolores refilled a cup of tea, no doubt just as furious. Her cousin was quiet, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t listening. If anything, that made her more dangerous.

“That was…a lot,” Dolores said. 

“She’s usually nicer,” Beatriz said, her hands trembling. “I just…I thought I could convince her.”

“Yeah, sounds like she really is intent on you staying here forever,” Isabela said. “And that’s not healthy. Not to sound judgmental, but you really need to get out of this tower. Even for a short time.”

“We can take you to the lantern festival,” Dolores added. “Make sure you enjoy one thing. And if that woman proves to be dangerous…well, we have connections that will make sure you never fear that woman again.”

Beatriz looked like she wanted to argue, but she knew it as much as them. It was the first time that someone else had said it. Maybe that was what she needed to hear.

“Only for the festival,” she said. “And then…then, we go from there.”

“Great,” Isabela said, grabbing her satchel. “Because we need to return our recovered heirloom anyway. The more the merrier.”

Beatriz packed her own things in a bag, whispering something that sounded like a goodbye to the woman she called madre. Isabela and Dolores shared a look.

They were getting Beatriz out of this tower. And they would see Madre Sombra thrown into prison for a very long time for child abuse at the very least.