by Lou Kuenzler
“I had better get going,” said Scarlet. “My parents are giving Wilbur a lift in our boat. I don’t want to make him late for the Royal Musicians Academy.”
“Have a wonderful holiday,” said Grace, hugging Scarlet and Izumi tightly. “See you next term for more fun in Sky Dorm.”
The girls hurried away toward their parents.
“Ready to go home, brave Sir Grace?” chuckled her father, bowing.
“Yes.” Grace smiled. “Although I wish I’d gotten to keep the suit of armor.” She had given it back to Squire Bellows and was wearing her pretty school pinafore and blue sash.
“You’re a proper princess now,” said Pip as Grace climbed into their little wooden rowing boat.
“Do you know what? I really think I am,” said Grace. And she gave her sister her best, most princessy curtsy.
But as she tried to stand straight, the boat rocked beneath her.
“Whoops!” she cried. She flung out her arms to steady herself…but it was too late.
She toppled over and fell into the sea.
Splosh!
Excerpt text copyright © 2014 by Lou Kuenzler and illustrations copyright © 2014 by Kimberley Scott. Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York. Originally published in paperback by Scholastic Ltd., London, in 2014.
It was Friday, when the princesses were allowed to ride their unicorns for an hour after school. As soon as class was over, Grace had grabbed her binoculars and dashed to the stables. She hadn’t stopped to find a proper rope…or even a saddle. She’d left Billy in his halter and ridden him bareback along the beach at a gallop.
Ambling back to school along the high cliff path, she’d spotted a perfect lookout tree. Hundreds of birds were swooping about the cliffs, searching for the best place to make their spring nests.
But it wasn’t birds that Grace was interested in.
“Who’s up there? What are you doing?” said a sharp voice from beneath the tree.
Grace looked down through the branches and saw the school gamekeeper with a crossbow slung across his back. His tiny niece, Hetty, stood just behind him.
“Oh. It’s you, Princess Grace.” The keeper sighed. “I should have guessed.” Keeper Falcon was a mean-looking man with narrow eyes and quick movements like a fox’s. He always seemed to find Grace in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Hello up there!” Young Hetty waved. The little girl could not have been more different from her uncle. She had a round, open face, with big, wide eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose.
“I love your unicorn. Can I pet him?” she asked.
“Of course,” said Grace. “His name’s Billy. Give him a really good scratch behind the ears. He loves that.”
But Keeper Falcon coughed and nudged his niece fiercely. “Where are your manners, Hetty?” he growled.
“Sorry.” Hetty blushed and dropped to one knee in a deep curtsy. “Good afternoon, Your Majesty. I hope you are having a pleasant day.”
“Very pleasant.” Grace smiled. “But you don’t need to curtsy to me.” It seemed ridiculous. The little girl was a year or so older than Grace’s own sister, Princess Pip. Just like Pip, she clearly wished she had a unicorn of her own.
I know how that feels, thought Grace. Until she had come to Tall Towers last term, having her own unicorn was all she had ever dreamed of too.
“Go ahead,” she said. “Pet Billy as much as you like.”
“That’s very kind of you. But Hetty must know her place,” said the gamekeeper with a stiff bow. “She is lucky to live with me now that her poor mother is dead. Your kind headmistress, Lady Du Lac, is generous enough to let her stay here on Coronet Island. It’s Hetty’s job to help me with the chores.”
“Like feeding the peacocks and doves,” said Hetty brightly.
“But you must remember that you are a servant, Hetty. Not a royal princess like the other girls,” the keeper barked.
At the harsh tone of his voice, Hetty jumped backward as if she had been slapped.
“Sorry, Uncle,” she murmured. “I just wanted to pet the unicorn, that’s all.”
“Well, mind your manners,” snapped the keeper. Grace was shocked at how strict he was. He bowed again as he turned back toward her. “Are you bird-watching up there, Young Majesty?”
“No. It’s not birds I’m looking out for,” said Grace, dropping down to a lower branch. “It’s dragons.”