by Lou Kuenzler
She would have been less surprised if I said I had grown a bright green beard, thought Grace.
“Who taught you your lessons?” asked Flintheart, her eyes wide in disbelief.
“Everybody, really.” Grace shrugged. “Gogo, the wise hermit, taught me how to read and write. Haggle, the head herdsman, taught me how to milk a yak.”
The princesses laughed.
“Yuck,” said Precious.
“Jape, my father’s jester, tried to teach me how to juggle with cheese.” Grace smiled. “But I was hopeless at that. He did tell me some really funny jokes, though. There’s this one about a yak who is halfway up a mountain. The only trouble is, he is bursting to go for a wee, so—”
“Stop! Enough!” cried Fairy Godmother Flint. “A princess never tells toilet jokes.”
The class giggled.
“It’s not rude,” said Grace. “Not really…” But something about old Flintheart’s ash-gray face told Grace that the teacher’s idea of what was rude might be very different from Jape the jester’s.
Flintheart clapped her hands. “Princesses, please continue to walk around the room. Meanwhile, Princess Grace, you can practice staying silent and standing still.”
She led Grace to the side of the studio.
“Stand straight with your back against a pillar,” she said, placing Princess Manners for Beginners on top of Grace’s head again. “If you do not move, the book will not fall off. This is a basic lesson in deportment that most princesses learn while they are still toddlers.”
Grace smiled, trying to imagine her little sister, Pip, standing still with a book on her head.
Flintheart shook her head in despair. “There is no need to grin like a jester. High spirits have never helped a book stay on anybody’s head.”
Grace relaxed her face and stretched her neck. If standing with a book on her head really would make her a better princess, she would give it her very best shot.
But she found it almost impossible to stand still. She could see the older princesses outside the window, hurrying to their classes now that the Tall Towers term had begun for real. They all looked so sparkly and poised—like swans gliding past in their white frocks.
Two girls who must have been Sixth Years seemed to shimmer as they floated across the lake in a silver rowing boat. Their heads were held high and their backs as straight as rulers.
I suppose deportment lessons taught them to sit like that, thought Grace, lifting her shoulders.
Bam!
Princess Manners for Beginners crashed to the floor.
“That is the end of the class,” sighed Flintheart, picking up the heavy book and handing it back to Grace. “I suggest you practice in your own time, Young Majesty.”
“I will. I promise,” said Grace.
“Next lesson I shall have a look at your curtsies,” said Flintheart as the class filed out of the room.
“Oh no. Not curtsies,” said Grace when they were all on the grass outside. “You know how bad I am at those.”
“Just try to feel elegant,” said a graceful princess named Christabel. She dipped her knees and bobbed low.
Grace tried to copy.
Her bottom stuck out behind her like a long-legged ostrich about to lay an egg.
“Hilarious,” snorted the twins. “But certainly not elegant.”
“Practice makes perfect.” Grace shrugged, colliding with them both as she swung her bottom round the other way.
The next morning, the First Years filed into the Grand Ballroom for an assembly with the rest of the school. It turned out that being able to do a perfect curtsy was going to be much more important than Grace could ever have guessed.
“I have exciting news,” announced Lady DuLac. “Tall Towers is to host a Grand Winter Tournament at the end of the term. Brave knights will arrive with their magnificent horses. They will dress in suits of armor and joust in the Silver Meadow.”
A murmur of excitement buzzed through the Grand Ballroom.
“My cousin Wilbur is a knight,” whispered Scarlet. “Although he is not a very brave one.”
“I think knights are magnificent,” swooned a pretty Fifth Year with blond curls piled as high as a chimney.
“And so handsome,” giggled her friend.
“The school will be on show,” continued Lady DuLac, her voice rising gently above the chatter. “As the tournament will be on the last day of the term, your parents are invited to come and watch. There will be kings and queens from every kingdom. Each class will have a different task to perform to make sure that we at Tall Towers are the perfect host. I know each and every one of you will make me proud.”
Grace felt she would do anything to make the beautiful headmistress proud.
“The First Years will begin the event with a parade.” Lady DuLac smiled. “You will carry flags and curtsy to the visiting kings and queens. Second Years will sing to the audience before the jousting starts. Third Years will…”
Grace didn’t hear what the next classes would be doing. Her head was spinning. The First Years would have to curtsy…in front of a crowd of royal visitors.
Beside her, Izumi was sketching a row of curtsying princesses in her little gold book.
Grace turned the other way and tugged at Scarlet’s sleeve. “I thought curtsying for Flintheart was going to be bad enough,” she hissed.
“I know. Imagine being in front of all those important people.” Scarlet trembled.
“Shhh!” warned Fairy Godmother Flint.
“The Fifth Years will be in charge of festive decorations,” Lady DuLac was saying.
“Decorations? We’ll never get to meet the knights if we’re stuck up a pillar fiddling with a bunch of prickly holly,” Grace heard the girl with chimney hair complain.
Grace wished she was in the Fifth Year already—fixing prickly holly to a wall sounded far better than curtsying.
“And the Sixth Years will ride their unicorns in a galloping display,” concluded the headmistress.
Now that is something I really would love to do, thought Grace.
* * *
Every opportunity she could find in those first few weeks at school, Grace slipped away to the stables to spend time with Billy.
The big, playful unicorn was just as loving and kind as she had thought he would be, although he did have a very naughty habit of nibbling her braids as if they were made from hay.
Grace had to laugh when a little white mouse crept out of the straw one afternoon and began to nibble Billy’s tail in exactly the same way. She had a shock when she got back to school, though, and the mouse shot out from the end of her sleeve. He scuttled across the floor in the middle of a deportment lesson, making the whole class scream and drop their Princess Manners for Beginners with an almighty bang.
Luckily, the mouse found his way back to the stables, and Grace always put a few extra slices of peach in Billy’s bowl for him to share.
The princesses hadn’t been allowed to ride their unicorns yet, but Sir Rolling-Trot had taught them how to feed and groom them.
Sometimes Grace braided Billy’s thick mane just like her own hair, but mostly she combed it out, free and flowing. Best of all, she loved to brush his long, streaming tail. Billy may not have shone like silver or gleamed like gold, but when Grace was finished with him, he looked handsome and brave.
“Billy is a hearty mountain unicorn,” said Sir Rolling-Trot when they were all lined up for inspection one day. “You have him looking just right, Princess Grace. Natural and strong. Splendid work. Well done.”
Grace glowed with pride.
Beside her, Precious was tying a sparkly ribbon around Champion’s ear. He already had twelve golden pom-poms hanging from his mane and twenty-four silver bows on his tail.
She grinned at the riding teacher, waiting for his praise.
But Sir Rolling-Trot only paused for a moment. “Make sure we can see the unicorn under all those frills,” he said.
Then he walked on to co
mpliment Princess Emmeline on her beautiful black mare, whose coat shone like polished ebony.
Precious scowled. “I don’t know why you’re smiling so happily,” she hissed at Grace. “Just because that horse-faced fool said something nice to you. It’s the first time any teacher at Tall Towers has said you’ve done well in anything. I’ve already had three Deportment Merits and been Ballroom Dancer of the Week. So there.”
It was true. Grace had not found the other lessons easy.
“I feel at home here in the stables.” She shrugged.
“Probably because it reminds you of your smelly old castle!” cried Precious, roaring with laughter.
But the smile soon disappeared from her face.
Sir Rolling-Trot was handing out thirteen long-handled shovels and thirteen brooms. “Today we will learn to muck out our unicorns,” he said.
“What?” Precious threw her shovel to the ground with a furious clatter. “You don’t mean you want us to clean up the…You can’t actually expect us to…”
“Yes, my dear,” chuckled the riding master. “I’m afraid I mean just that. It is time to scoop some poop!”
“But we are princesses,” raged Precious. “Royal princesses. Don’t you understand that, sir?”
“Indeed I do,” said Sir Rolling-Trot calmly. “I have been lucky enough to teach young royals here at Tall Towers for many years. And every Tall Towers princess has learned how to muck out a stall in her first year.”
“Surely that’s what we have servants for?” said the twins.
“Exactly.” Precious kicked her shovel across the yard. “I never have to do anything for myself at home.”
“Then you will find this lesson harder than most, my dear,” said Sir Rolling-Trot. “You have a choice. Either pick up your shovel and muck out one stall. Or continue to make a fuss and you’ll muck out all thirteen.”
“Just you wait until my daddy hears about this,” said Precious. But she picked up her shovel, still muttering under her breath.
“What about our dresses?” wailed the twins.
Sir Rolling-Trot pointed toward the tack room, where there was an assortment of blue overalls and long boots.
“I suggest you slip those on, Young Majesties,” he said. “Mucking out a stall is rewarding but grubby work.”
Grace smiled when she saw everyone dressed in the overalls—she never thought she would see her princess friends looking like this.
Izumi was so tiny she had to roll the legs of her pants into thick, fat folds so she didn’t trip over them.
“These are great!” she cried. “I’m going to get a pair for my painting. I’ll never ruin another dress again.”
Grace saw that Izumi had placed a sprig of purple lavender in the clip of her overalls.
“That’s pretty. We should get some herbs for everyone,” said Grace. “They might feel more princessy then.”
“Great idea,” agreed Scarlet. “The sweet smell will waft under our noses while we work.”
Everyone was delighted as Izumi, Scarlet, and Grace returned from the herb trough by the stable gate with sprigs of wild feathery fennel, purple lavender, and green mint.
“A last sniff of summer before the autumn comes,” said Sir Rolling-Trot, looking at the big maple trees behind the stables, which were already starting to turn fiery red.
Even the twins were pleased with their posies.
“How splendid!” they cried, poking sprigs of sweet lavender among their curls.
Only Precious refused to take a posy, holding her nose with one hand as she shoveled sulkily with the other.
At last, the stable yard gleamed clean and bright—and the princesses’s faces shone with hard work too.
“Well done,” said Sir Rolling-Trot when they had washed their hands under the old iron pump. “Now that you have learned to look after your unicorns, you are ready to ride them. Our first lesson will be tomorrow.”
The next morning, Grace woke up on the floor as usual.
She leapt to her feet and looked out across Coronet Island. It was a beautiful, bright autumn day.
“Perfect for our first ride!” she cheered as Scarlet and Izumi rubbed their sleepy eyes.
As she rummaged in the wardrobe, Grace was a little surprised by her riding outfit. She hadn’t looked at it properly since Fairy Godmother Pom found it for her in the Sewing Tower on the first day.
It was a thick blue coat and a long skirt, and a peaked hat with a veil.
“It’s called a riding habit,” Izumi explained. She helped Grace to pin a pretty silver brooch across her collar.
Grace pulled on the tall riding boots that the cobbler from the village had made for her. The school and dancing shoes he had brought fit like gloves and were so soft to walk in that Grace felt as if she was floating on air. The soft new shoes had even helped with deportment a little—Grace could now walk all the way around a pillar without Princess Manners for Beginners falling to the floor.
But the riding boots were different—they felt strong and secure.
“I could gallop round the world and back in these.” She smiled as she clattered down the stairs with Izumi and a nervous-looking Scarlet close behind.
Riding was the first lesson and, to have extra time with the unicorns, they were going to miss breakfast in the Dining Tower and have toast and tea in the stable yard.
Scarlet was pale and quiet.
Grace’s pulse was racing with excitement, like the hooves of a galloping horse.
She had spent hours at home riding an imaginary unicorn made from an old mop. Now she grabbed a broom from among a pile of fallen leaves.
“Giddyup,” she said, trying to make Scarlet laugh so that she would feel better.
Scarlet smiled.
“Bit of a prickly mane, though,” said Grace, patting the bristles on the end of the brush.
“You’re such a baby,” said Precious, striding past. “I don’t know why you’re so excited anyway. You’re bound to fall off.”
Precious is probably right, thought Grace. She couldn’t even balance on a wall without toppling over. But she couldn’t get nervous now—not when she had promised Scarlet everything would be all right.
“Hop on!” she cried, gesturing to her friend to join her on the back of the broom.
“Whoa!” Scarlet said, clinging to Grace’s waist as they charged across the yard.
“See,” Grace laughed.“You’re riding already.”
“It won’t be anything like that,” said Precious as the two girls swung their legs off the broom and propped it against the stable wall.
“True,” said Grace, squeezing Scarlet’s hand. “We probably won’t be allowed to gallop quite as fast as that on the first day.”
“I meant that we will be riding sidesaddle, of course,” sneered Precious, pointing at the unicorns, all tacked up and standing in a line. “Tall Towers princesses always do.”
“Sidesaddle?” Grace gulped. Suddenly the long skirt on the riding habit made sense. She had never dreamed they would ride the unicorns this way.
“What did you think you were?” laughed Precious. “A farm boy on a cart horse?”
When they had drunk their tea and eaten slices of hot buttered toast, the princesses led the unicorns into the beautiful indoor Dressage Hall. It was more like a grand ballroom than a riding school, with white marble pillars and three glistening crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling by red velvet ropes. Instead of a carpet or floorboards like a ballroom, though, the floor of the Dressage Hall was covered in thick sawdust to protect the animals’ hooves.
At least the ground will be soft if we fall off, thought Grace.
A dozen grooms appeared, and along with Sir Rolling-Trot, they helped the princesses to mount their unicorns.
Billy jiggled his head with excitement as he felt Grace’s weight drop into the saddle.
“He has spirit, this one, Your Majesty,” muttered the groom.
Grace was sure she would feel much bett
er if her legs were on either side of the saddle. She had sat on some of the old yaks at home that way. With both legs perched on the same side of the saddle, Grace felt as if she was balancing on a slippery, swaying piano stool with nothing behind her and nothing in front.
Beneath her, Billy was prancing from side to side, like a goat on springs.
Grace toppled over backward and landed on the soft sawdust.
Plop!
“Whoops-a-daisy,” said Sir Rolling-Trot as Grace scrambled on again with the help of a groom. “That’s the spirit!” He smiled. “Always get right back in the saddle if you can.”
Grace did her best to stay cheerful as she fell off three more times in a row. At last, she managed to complete a whole circle of the Dressage Hall, clinging tight to the saddle.
“That’s better,” said Sir Rolling-Trot.
Some of the other princesses had fallen off too. Visalotta sat in the middle of the sawdust, looking very surprised to be there. Izumi had tumbled once when Beauty shied. But Scarlet sat straight as a ballerina, as if she had been riding sidesaddle all her life. Only her wide eyes gave away how terrified she was.
Why can’t I be more like Scarlet? She’s always so elegant, thought Grace. Or even like Precious…A wisp of jealousy rose inside her as she wobbled and grabbed at Billy’s mane.
Precious had taken riding lessons on ponies at home. She was turning round in her saddle, grinning at everyone as she steered Champion in a figure eight.
“Let’s all try trotting now,” said Sir Rolling-Trot.
Plop!
Grace fell off again.
* * *
By the time the lesson was over, Grace had fallen twelve times.
“I wouldn’t worry. That’s the sign of a good rider.” Sir Rolling-Trot smiled, patting Billy as he was unsaddled in the stable yard. “I am impressed by your spirit, Grace. You got back up every time you fell. Not a lot of young princesses would do that.”
“Thank you.” Grace tried to smile. She knew Sir Rolling-Trot was being kind, but it didn’t make her feel any better. She had longed to ride ever since she was tiny, always pretending in her games that she was a champion horsewoman. Now that she finally had the chance to sit on a real unicorn, she had to do it sidesaddle, like a dainty princess. She couldn’t stay on for more than five minutes.