The Match Makers

By Malissa Kent

In this fairy tale retelling, Rumpelstiltskin turns self-centered teenage princesses into well-rounded young women fit to find their One True Love--princes supplied by the Fairy Godmother. Just as a Cinderella-cycle is being completed, Rumpelstiltskin--or Rasp, as others call him--is called to pick up a new princess, the first-born daughter of a woman who Rasp had completed spinning assignments for years ago. At twenty-six, the new princess is older than any other princess he’s accepted into his training. And she knows his name.

Blending traditional Rumpelstiltskin stories from many different cultures, this short story is a delightful riff on the fairy tales that were ingrained in our culture long before Disney or the Brothers Grimm.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Malissa Kent
• Release date: Sep 3, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465824233

Malissa Kent

Storytelling runs in Malissa's family, so few people were surprised when she made the transition from voracious reader to avid writer. She started out writing terrible poetry and bad song lyrics in middle school, but found her stride in writing novels and short stories. She majored in Creative Writing and French at Knox College and recently completed her MFA in Popular Fiction at Stonecoast. Though Fantasy is her literary darling, she's written a fair share of science fiction, mainstream fiction, poetry, and even French translation. Her work has appeared in literary magazines, as e-books, and in STEAMPUNK III: STEAMPUNK REVOLUTION, edited by Ann VanderMeer. Malissa lives in the Pacific Northwest, where she mountain-gazes while planning her next trip to visit castles for writing research. Her online home is at www.malissa.com.

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The Match Makers

By Malissa M. Kent

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011, all rights reserved

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I’m here to rescue the princess, the prince said when Rasp opened the door. The young man was stereotypically handsome—the tall and dark kind—and had a perfectly polished sword pointed at Rasp’s chest.

Rasp could already hear the scuttling from deeper inside the house. I’m sorry, he said sweetly. There’s no princess here.

The prince frowned. This is the Hunting Forest of Aimreux, is it not? he asked, shifting slightly. His sword caught the light of the noon sun, nearly blinding Rasp.

By the brothers, get that out of my face! Rasp spat, hitting the flat of the blade with one hand to force it down. The prince let the point drop to the ground, though his alert stance didn’t waver. Rasp sighed. Might as well get on with the formalities. Indeed, this is the Hunting Forest of Aimreux. He stressed the correct pronunciation: em-ruh. And what is the most important part of that name, boy?

The prince shrugged. Aimreux? He pronounced it aim-rucks. Again.

Rasp sighed. Where has your fairy godmother been? The most important part of the name is Hunting. You can’t just come here and expect to be handed a princess. You have to hunt for her.

Is this some sort of trick? I’ve heard you often play tricks on princes. I believe you have a princess with you now, and my hunt can stop here.

Oh, yes! a high-pitch voice cried. Rasp caught Elspeth around the waist as she tried throwing herself out the door. Her beauty was stereotypical enough to match the prince’s: a perfect hourglass shape,