Elizabeth's house is within walking distance. Bella goes over to it the following day, after lunch, carrying two extra clumsily-frosted but perfectly baked cupcakes in her hands and notebooks in her backpack.
"I would rather be the Queen of Fairyland, I think," says Bella. "The Queen of Fairyland probably gets to learn fairy magic."
"Not necessarily a plus. Some of those fairies are pretty nasty, I mean, in the pre-Disney versions."
"I read old books sometimes but not usually old fairytales," muses Bella, "what d'you mean?"
"I don't know, I can't think of any specific examples off the top of my head except Hansel and Gretel and there weren't actually any fairies in that one, just lots of cannibalism."
"There's still that in the kids' versions I've seen," muses Bella. "Or at least threats of cannibalism."
"Yeah. But I mean... 'fairy' used to mean 'terrifying otherworldly creature who will steal your baby and replace it with an enchanted log'."
"To throw off suspicion? I don't know. Fairies also don't traditionally make a lot of sense."
"Huh. I wonder if that's just lazy writing or if there's a way to interpret them that does make sense."
"Do you have a good collection of the kind of fairy tales with actual fairies in them?"
There are some books of fairy tales available, although it is not always easy to tell which ones contain fairies.
"Fairy tales," she pronounces after a while, "are really, really weird. I wonder if stories that get written now will seem weird in three hundred years."
"Not all old stories are this weird. Like, the Iliad is comprehensible and that's thousands of years old. And contains absolutely no log babies or people giving birth to goats, as far as I remember."
"Yep. Rivers running red with blood, Achilles dragging Hector's corpse around the city walls."
"He had a chariot. I think Hector killed somebody he liked and that was the only way he could think of to express how mad he was about it."