A Royal Disaster

by Lou Kuenzler

  “Poor you!” gasped Scarlet. “I’m sure they’ll find you somewhere just as soon as they can.”

  “Looks like you’ll have to sleep in a barn.” Precious giggled nastily.

  “That’s a wonderful idea!” Grace jumped up and down with excitement. “Don’t worry about me not having a dormitory, Fairy Godmother,” she called out. “I can sleep in the stables with Billy.”

  “No,” said Old Flintheart. She reached to pick a clump of hay out of Grace’s hair. “Princesses do not sleep in the stables. Ever.”

  “Grace can’t share with me, Fairy Godmother. Even if she is my cousin,” said Precious, looking worried. “There wouldn’t be room. Visalotta will need an extra wardrobe for all her clothes as it is.”

  “And Grace wouldn’t want to share with us,” said Princess Trinket. “Truffle snores.”

  “No, I do not. That’s a lie.” Truffle blushed like a furious tomato.

  “Yes, you do.” Trinket kicked her sister. “You snore really badly, Truffle. Remember?”

  “Oh,” said Truffle, suddenly understanding. “She’s right, Fairy Godmother. Grace certainly wouldn’t want to share with us. I do snore. Like a trumpet. We both do.”

  “Like two trumpets,” squealed Trinket, and the twins collapsed in snorts of laughter.

  “I don’t mind where I go,” said Grace. It wasn’t true, though. She had dearly hoped that she could be with Scarlet. But the red-haired princess had moved away from the notice board. She had her arm round Izumi, and they were whispering together as if they had a secret to share.

  Probably planning a midnight feast for their first night in the new dorm, thought Grace sadly.

  She glanced back at the list. Scarlet and Izumi’s room was called Sky Dorm. It sounded so exciting, as if it was hidden away in the clouds.

  “I suppose we could clear a bed for you in the sickroom,” sighed Fairy Godmother Flint. “But I don’t know what we’ll do if somebody comes down with the measles.”

  “The sickroom? Oh, poor Grace.” Scarlet rushed forward and grabbed her hand. “It would be so lonely. And you’d aways feel as if you were ill.”

  “You’re welcome to share with us if you’d like to,” said Izumi, taking Grace’s other hand. “We were just talking about it.”

  “Please say you will,” begged Scarlet. “It might be a bit of a squeeze, but it would be so much fun. I’d hate to think of you in the sickroom all alone.”

  A smile spread across Grace’s face. “Whoopee!” she cried. Her voice echoed through the marble corridors like a clanging bell. “Whoopee! Whoopee!”

  Grace flung her arms around her two friends’ shoulders and kicked her long, skinny legs high in the air. “I can’t think of anything that I would like more than to share a dormitory with you.” She grinned.

  “Dignity, please.” Fairy Godmother Flint scowled.

  But even Old Flintheart’s stern expression couldn’t stop Grace from tapping her feet and whistling as she climbed the narrow stairs up to Sky Dorm.

  On the way past, she peered in at Treasure Dorm, which looked out onto the big gray vaults where all the school’s gold was stored. Precious was delighted with the room because it had a diamond door handle and golden bedsheets made of shiny silk.

  The twins were just as pleased with Throne Dorm, which overlooked the ceremonial hall, where important meetings with royal visitors were held. Grace peeked round the door and blinked. The bright purple bedspreads and vivid red velvet walls made her eyes water.

  But Garden Dorm, Meadow Dorm, and Sea Dorm were all lovely, with pretty decorations of flowers, butterflies, or seashells on the wallpaper.

  “You’re so lucky,” Grace told the other princesses when she saw their views of the lawns, the fields, or the horseshoe-shaped harbor.

  “Sky Dorm is farther up,” said Fairy Godmother Flint. “It’s right in the attic.”

  “All the more stairs to fall down,” laughed Precious, poking her head out of her door as Grace clomped on, up the narrow, twisting steps.

  At last, Izumi, Scarlet, and Grace reached the very top of Dormitory Tower. They saw a little white door tucked away in the rooftop.

  “Ready?” The three new friends put their hands on the old brass doorknob. “Push,” said Grace.

  The door swung open, and the girls fell into the middle of a little round room.

  “It’s like an artist’s studio,” gasped Izumi as light flooded down on them.

  “And it’s perfect for dancing,” said Scarlet. She spun across the wooden floor in a graceful pirouette.

  Grace, for once, could not speak at all.

  The pretty white dormitory seemed the loveliest of them all. It had glass skylights in the roof and a view of the whole of Coronet Island.

  There were two little white beds already and plenty of room for a third tucked in between them.

  “It’s the sort of place where princess dreams come true,” said Grace at last. She tried to spin like Scarlet had done, but landed with a thump on her bottom.

  “Oops!” She grinned. “My dreams will come true. I just have to practice a little first.”

  Later that night, as the stars shone down through the skylight, the three girls prepared for a midnight feast.

  “I hope we don’t get caught,” whispered Scarlet, passing around a box of delicate white cookies wrapped in pink tissue paper. “Old Flintheart scares the life out of me.”

  “We’ll just have to keep our voices down,” mouthed Izumi. She gently popped the cork on a bottle of fizzy lemonade.

  “I was so hoping we’d have a feast,” said Grace, offering around a handkerchief filled with yak’s-milk fudge. “It only got a little bit fluffy in the pocket of my cloak.”

  “Yikes. It looks like furry caterpillars,” squealed Scarlet, peeping under the corner of the handkerchief.

  “Or dragon droppings!” cried Grace, grab-bing the biggest piece of fudge and chasing the others around the room with it.

  The girls laughed so loud, it was surprising that Fairy Godmother Flint didn’t hear them from her office at the bottom of Dormitory Tower and come thundering up the stairs.

  “Oh, Grace, we are never going to be bored with you here.” Scarlet giggled as the three of them collapsed in a heap on the floor. Tears of laughter streamed helplessly down their cheeks.

  “Now for a pillow fight,” said Grace.

  Thud!

  During the night, Grace rolled out of bed.

  She was so used to doing this at home that she didn’t even wake up.

  But in the morning, Scarlet and Izumi found her sleeping in a heap on the dormitory floor.

  “Wake up,” they whispered. “It’s nearly breakfast time.”

  Grace blinked. From where she was lying, she could see straight into a full-length mirror. Her hair was caught in the springs of the bed above her head—it had probably been like that for most of the night. As she untangled herself, she saw that it was now sticking up in crazy clumps, like an angry chicken’s feathers.

  “Ow!” She winced, pulling a last tangle free from the bedsprings and scrambling to her feet.

  Izumi and Scarlet were already dressed neatly in the pretty white pinafores with blue sashes that all the Tall Towers princesses were supposed to wear.

  “We’ll help you get ready,” said Izumi.

  “But I don’t have a pinafore,” sighed Grace. As she hadn’t received all the proper scrolls and lists, she didn’t have any of the right clothes with her.

  “Where am I supposed to find these things? And how much will it all cost?” she groaned, staring at the regulation uniform list that had been left on the end of her bed. “I know Papa is a king. But I don’t think he is a very rich one.”

  She ran her finger down the long scroll: “Indoor shoes, outdoor shoes, riding jacket, riding hat, riding boots, ballet leotard, ballet tutu, ballet cardigan, ballet shoes, ballroom dress, ballroom shoes, handkerchiefs (white—12), gloves (leather), gloves (wool), gloves (lace), parasol
…”

  “I have a spare pinafore you can borrow,” said Izumi as she began to braid one side of Grace’s hair and Scarlet started on the other. “I can let down the hem.”

  But they knew it was hopeless. Izumi was so tiny—like a little china doll beside Grace.

  “Your pinafore would be more like a bib than a dress on me. I’d end up showing my knickers,” laughed Grace. She glanced down at the scroll again. “And it says here they are supposed to be the regulation school kind—white…and frilly…My knickers are bright blue with red spots.”

  “Stop it!” squealed Scarlet, who was a big giggler. She let go of Grace’s braid, and it unraveled in her hands. “You’ll make me wet my knickers if I laugh this much.”

  “I bet yours are regulation white and frilly, though,” spluttered Grace.

  “I beg your pardon?” Fairy Godmother Flint appeared in the doorway. “A princess never discusses her underwear.”

  “Sorry. It’s just I don’t seem to have quite the right things,” said Grace. She scrambled into the same creased clothes she had worn the day before. She caught sight of herself in the mirror again and tried not to giggle. One side of her hair was braided, and Izumi had tied a ribbon around it in a beautiful double bow—but the other side was still as wild as a bunch of hay.

  “Tut, tut.” The First Year teacher scowled down her thin nose. “This will not do, Young Majesty.”

  She sent Scarlet and Izumi off to breakfast in the Dining Tower and ordered Grace to see the seamstress, Fairy Godmother Pom.

  When she reached the Sewing Tower, Grace pulled on the long red tassel that rang the tingling gold doorbell.

  “Come in, come in!” Fairy Godmother Pom beamed. She looked exactly like a fairy godmother is supposed to look, round and plump and smiling—as different from Fairy Godmother Flint as a ball of knitting wool is from an iron nail.

  “How lovely to meet you, young Gracie,” she said, chattering as she led the way through a maze of sewing machines and tailor’s dummies. There were jars overflowing with buttons and pins, rolls of bright material and reels of thread.

  “I remember Princess Dawn, your dear mother,” chortled Fairy Godmother Pom. “Before she married your father and became Queen Dawn, that is. I had to let down the hem of her Tall Towers pinafore three times in her first term. I even made her wedding dress for her. Did she ever tell you that?”

  “No…I don’t think so.” Grace stumbled over the end of a roll of green velvet and steadied herself against a table for a moment. She knew so little about her mother, really. It was strange to think she had been looked after by this kind, happy woman. Strange to think she had been a new girl on her first day at Tall Towers, just like Grace was now.

  “Forgive me. I’m a silly old chatterbox,” said Fairy Godmother Pom. She spun around like a bobbin of bright thread and gathered Grace into a warm hug. “You had so little time with your mother. You were so young when she passed away, and your poor sister, Princess Pip, just a baby…and here’s me, chattering on about all my memories. I didn’t want to upset you.”

  “I like it when people talk about her,” said Grace. “Papa never even mentions her name. He says it makes him too sad. And when Pip asks me questions about Mama, I often have to make things up because I don’t know the real answers for sure. But you remember her—you knew her. Ever since she was a schoolgirl.”

  “Anytime you want, you just ask me about her. I shouldn’t say this, but she was a bit of a favorite with me,” said Fairy Godmother Pom. She took Grace’s hand and led her toward a huge wooden wardrobe. “She was so kind and polite. And funny too. Not like her sister, Princess Greya, your aunt. Queen Greya, as she is now.”

  “Precious’s mum.” Grace nodded.

  “Could sour milk in a churn, that one,” sighed Fairy Godmother Pom. “She was horrid to your mother. Just because Dawn was her baby sister. Three years younger and twice as smart.”

  The little fairy godmother stood on tiptoes and heaved open the doors of the huge wardrobe.

  “Now we’d better get you set up with some clothes,” she said. “Otherwise old Flintheart…I mean, Fairy Godmother Flint…will string me up with the laundry.”

  “Wow!” Grace’s mouth dropped open like a drawbridge. The wardrobe was stuffed full of dresses and skirts, hats and shoes, parasols and petticoats in every color of the rainbow. “Where did all these things come from?” she gasped.

  “Lost-and-found—years of the stuff,” said Fairy Godmother Pom. “Now you give me that uniform scroll. We’ll find you everything you need here. There’s even a diamond tiara stuffed away somewhere.”

  Fairy Godmother Pom’s front end dis-appeared into the wardrobe like a bear going into a cave.

  “One ballet tutu. That should fit you!” she cried, tossing a white net skirt out from behind the hanging rail. It landed in a large empty trunk by Grace’s feet. “And a cardigan too. Riding jacket—dark blue. It’s lovely material, that one.” A thick navy coat flew out of the wardrobe door. “Riding gloves. Lace fan…”

  In no time at all, the trunk was nearly full.

  “Shoes might be a bit of a problem,” said Fairy Godmother Pom, shuffling backward out of the wardrobe and looking down at Grace’s very large feet. “You’ll just have to make do with what you have for now.” She pointed to the big, brown lace-up walking boots Grace was wearing. “Meanwhile, I’ll send a message to the village. The cobbler will come and fit you for indoor shoes, out-door shoes, ballet slippers, and everything else you need.”

  “Really?” gasped Grace. “All those shoes just for me?” She had only ever owned walking boots and a pair of comfy yak-skin slippers before now.

  Fairy Godmother Pom nodded. “Only the pinafore left and you’ll look like a proper Tall Towers princess.”

  She selected the longest white dress from a row of pinafores.

  “Go on, then, Gracie. Pop behind the curtain and slip that on,” she said.

  “Well, I never. Don’t you look elegant!” Fairy Godmother Pom smiled when Grace came out of the cubicle.

  She reached up to braid the second side of Grace’s hair. Then she wound a bright blue sash around Grace’s waist and tied it in a bow.

  “Perfect,” she said, leading Grace toward a tall mirror in the corner.

  “Oh.” Grace half curtsied—confused for a moment, thinking some other princess must have come into the room.

  “That’s you, you silly duckling,” chuckled Fairy Godmother Pom.

  Grace stood and stared. She had never in all her life believed she could look like this. Her dress was so perfect and white.

  “I look like a real princess,” she whispered.

  “Yes, you do,” agreed Fairy Godmother Pom. “The real thing. Without a doubt.”

  The uniform fitting took so long that Grace had missed breakfast in the Dining Tower. But Fairy Godmother Pom insisted on making her a drink and toasting some crumpets on the fire.

  By the time Grace hurried across the courtyard to the First Year Common Room, her perfect white pinafore already had a sprinkle of crumbs, a drizzle of honey, and a splash of hot chocolate down the front.

  Izumi and Scarlet thought she looked perfect, though.

  “But it’s secondhand,” sniffed Precious. “From the lost-and-found.”

  “Sometimes old outfits can be even better than new ones,” said Izumi, who loved to design and make her own clothes. “You’re so lucky to have explored the Sewing Tower already, Grace. I’ve heard Fairy Godmother Pom has some amazing vintage ball gowns up there. Some of them are over a hundred years old…and there are capes and gloves and parasols as well.”

  “It was wonderful,” agreed Grace. “I’ve never seen so many beautiful dresses in all my life.”

  She didn’t care what Precious said. She loved how light and floaty her pinafore felt. She couldn’t resist spinning in a circle, just to watch the skirt spread out around her with the blue ribbons from the sash streaming behind.

  “Don’t for
get you still don’t have regulation knickers on.” Scarlet giggled as Grace’s skirt flew up around her ears.

  “Come on. We’d better hurry,” said a sporty princess named Latisha, sprinting out the door. “We have a deportment lesson with old Flintheart first thing.”

  “Deportment?” said Grace, tugging her skirt toward her knees. “What’s that?”

  “You’ll find out,” laughed Precious. “Basically it’s your worst nightmare, Grace.”

  For once, Grace had to agree with Precious. Deportment did turn out to be her worst nightmare.

  The class took place in the beautiful glass ballet studio beside the lake. First, Fairy Godmother Flint stood the girls in a line.

  “Deportment is all about posture,” she said, handing them each a leather-bound book. “A princess must learn how to stand straight. How to hold her head steady. And how not to fall over her own big feet.”

  This last comment seemed to be aimed directly at Grace.

  “Find a space and hold your book out in front of you,” said Flintheart.

  Thank goodness for that, thought Grace. Whatever deportment is, we are only going to read about it for today. That didn’t sound too bad. Grace glanced down at the thick red spine of her book.

  Princess Manners for Beginners by B. Royal.

  “Now place the books on your heads,” said Flintheart sternly.

  “On our heads?” Grace laughed out loud. She was sure she must have heard wrong. But the other girls were already gliding around the room in time to Fairy Godmother Flint’s fast clap, their shoulders back and their books balanced perfectly on top of their heads.

  “Excellent, excellent,” said Flintheart.

  Bam!

  Grace had taken only one step when Princess Manners for Beginners crashed to the floor.

  “Honestly, Princess Grace,” sighed Fairy Godmother Flint. “Have you never had a deportment lesson before? Didn’t your governess teach you the basics at least?”

  “Er—I didn’t have a governess,” said Grace.

  “No governess?” Flintheart sounded amazed.