Her brother’s voice, however, was quiet and hoarse. “Come in.”
She threw open the door. “Dexter, I have the most amazing news,” she cried, a bit out of breath. She’d run all the way to the dormitory, which hadn’t been easy in the suit of armor. But she’d needed to get to the room before Hunter. “You won’t believe it.” She closed Dexter’s door, tossed the book bag and gauntlets onto the faux-fur carpet, then whipped off the helmet.
Dexter was lying on his bed in his pajamas. His jackalope, a jackrabbit with antelope horns, Mr. Cottonhorn, was lying next to him, also in pajamas and wearing identical black-framed glasses. Dexter’s mouth fell open. “Darling?” Mr. Cottonhorn dropped his book.
“Surprise,” she said with a wide grin. Then her smile faded. “Oh, you look terrible.” Dexter’s nose was swollen and red, and little blue spots had sprouted all over his face. “What’s the matter with you?”
He tried to sit up, but he fell back against the pillows with a groan. “Turns out I’ve got princely pox.”
“What’s that?”
“Apparently it’s a form of pox that only princes can get. Most princes get it when they’re babies, but lucky me, I’m getting it now.” He sneezed. “Hunter doesn’t have to worry about catching it, because he’s not a prince.”
She stepped closer to get a better view of the spots. “Do those things itch?”
“Uh-huh. The doctor said it’ll take a few days before they go away and I feel better. I’m taking medicine, but it makes me really sleepy.” He yawned and pointed to a bottle of prince pox potion. The label read: CAUSES DROWSINESS. DO NOT OPERATE ANY DRAWBRIDGES OR ENGAGE IN HEROIC ACTIVITIES WHILE TAKING THIS MEDICATION.
“A few days? Well, that means you might be well for the tournament. That’s good news.”
“I don’t know if it’s good news or bad news. I’m dreading that tournament. I couldn’t care less about being a knight.” He frowned at her. “Are you going to tell me why you’re wearing my armor?” Mr. Cottonhorn’s ears twitched. He seemed to be waiting for an explanation, too.
“Oh, right.” She smiled again. Wouldn’t Dexter be proud when he heard her story? “Well, this morning, I went to the blacksmith’s to get the suit for you, as a surprise. But as you know, there are a lot of pieces, so I figured that wearing it was the easiest way to carry it.”
“That was nice of you but…” He sneezed again. “Mom and Dad wouldn’t approve. You could get into trouble.”
“Don’t worry. I wore the helmet the entire time, so no one knew it was me. In fact, they thought I was you.” She glanced out the window. “I’d better change before Hunter gets back.” She started to take off the pieces of plate armor, setting them on the floor next to Dexter’s bed. Mr. Cottonhorn adjusted his glasses, picked up his book, and went back to reading.
“How come the suit’s still covered in scratches and dings?” Dexter asked. “And that helmet doesn’t look new.”
As she slipped into the dress and adjusted her necklace, she told him about Betty’s dad and the bunion.
“No new helmet for a few weeks?” Dexter sighed. “Well, it probably doesn’t matter. I’m going to fail the jousting lesson anyway. I can’t joust blind and I certainly can’t joust if I have princely pox.”
“Maybe you can,” she said with a mischievous smile. Then, after sliding into her shoes, she sat on the edge of his bed.
“Huh?”
“Like I was saying, when I walked through the village, no one knew it was me. I kept the visor down the entire time. Even Dare thought he was talking to you.”
Dexter scratched his forehead, looking a bit puzzled. “You talked to Dare while you were wearing my suit of armor? Didn’t he recognize your voice?”
“Well, he did all the talking. You know how he is. And then he walked me straight to Hero Training.”
“He did what?” Dexter managed to sit up this time, his eyes so wide they looked like they might burst through his glasses. For just a moment, he reminded her of Hopper Croakington II, son of the Frog Prince.
“That’s the amazing news I wanted to tell you.” She jumped to her feet. “Oh, Dex, it was so much fun! We got to choose horses, and we practiced riding up and down the field. Then we were given lances, and we practiced charging at a dummy and shield. The shield had a bull’s-eye painted on it, and I hit it every time. I got a nearly perfect score. Professor Knight said I was the most improved student!” She squirmed with delight. “Can you believe it? I’m the most improved! I mean, you’re the most improved, because they thought I was you.”
While Mr. Cottonhorn turned a page, not a word or a sound came from Dexter. He sat perfectly still, his mouth wide open, as if a freezing curse had hit him. Was he breathing?
“Dex?”
Then, with a spray of spit, the words flew out. “You did what?” he cried. “How could you do that? Are you crazy?”
Darling frowned. “Of course I’m not crazy. Why are you so upset? This is good news. Professor Knight gave you the highest score today.” She didn’t understand her brother’s reaction. Surely he’d see that she’d helped him. Maybe the princely pox had infected his brain and he wasn’t thinking clearly. “Are you… mad at me?” He’d never been mad at her before. Her eyes suddenly welled with tears.
Dexter took a deep breath. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I’m not mad. I’m just confused.” He repositioned his glasses and looked at his sister with wonder. “Did you say that you got a nearly perfect score?” She nodded. “You rode a horse while wearing a full suit of armor and you didn’t fall off?” She nodded again. “And you carried a lance?”
“Yep.”
“How is that possible? You’ve never done anything like that before.”
She looked down at her feet.
“Wait a minute? Are you telling me that you’re just like Dare? You don’t have to practice? You do everything perfectly the first time? Am I the only Charming who’s not perfect?” He slumped against the pillows.
“No, no, that’s not it. I’m nowhere near perfect. Believe me, I have to practice. I practice all the time.” She sat back on the bed. “You know how Betty asked me about my calluses?” She held out her hands. “And you remember how I started climbing out of the tower when we were little?” He nodded. “Well, I’m still doing it.”
“Here? At school?”
“Uh-huh. And there’s more. I’ve been lifting weights and working out. And at night, I’ve been sneaking off campus and riding with Sir Gallopad.” She stopped talking. His face was turning red. For a moment, she thought he was going to get angry because she’d kept so many secrets from him. They were the best of friends. Would he feel betrayed?
But instead he started laughing. Relieved, she laughed, too.
“I thought you’d left all that behind at Charming Castle,” he said. “Can you imagine what Mom and Dad would say?”
“I don’t have to imagine. I know exactly what they’d say, which is why they’ll never know what happened today.”
After a few more sneezes, he looked at her, all joviality gone. “I guess I’d better get used to being number three.”
Darling’s heart suddenly ached. Had she hurt her brother’s feelings? Dexter was no longer second best. Now he was third best. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” But she had meant to succeed. When she’d sat on Sir Gallopad and held the lance, she’d wanted to be the best. She’d wanted to prove that she was equally able. But the painful, defeated look in her brother’s eyes had turned success bittersweet. “As soon as you get your new helmet, you’ll joust better than me. You’ll see.”
“What if I can’t?” He swept his hair from his forehead. “It’s bad enough that I fell off the horse in front of everyone, but now, thanks to you, they’ll expect me to be better than I am.” He sighed. “At least we don’t have class again until Thursday.” Then he closed his eyes and yawned. “I’m so sleepy.”
She’d messed things up. Not only had she taken a great risk by wearing
the armor, but in her desire to help, she’d also put more pressure on Dexter by raising everyone’s expectations. That was the last thing she’d intended. “I’m sorry,” she told him. “I guess I messed things up.” But he didn’t hear her apology, because he’d started to snore. Mr. Cottonhorn was fast asleep, too.
She looked at her brother’s splotchy face. “I promise I’ll make things right,” she whispered. But how?
Chapter 13
A Cry for Help
Darling slipped into the Damsel-In-Distressing classroom and claimed a vacant spot at the end of a velvet settee. Back in her dorm room, she’d had just enough time to shower off the sweat and grime from jousting. Then she’d dressed in a powder-blue frock with a ruffled hem, a silver belt, silver boots, and her sapphire tiara. No one questioned her change of clothing since breakfast. It was a princess’s right to change outfits as many times a day as she wanted.
Apple passed around a platter of mini apple tarts. Having missed lunch, Darling grabbed a handful and tried not to eat too quickly. Because she was once again in princess mode, ravenous consumption was frowned upon. Delicate nibbling was expected. But when no one was looking, she shoved an entire tart into her mouth. Then another.
“Did you hear about Dexter?” Ashlynn asked the girls.
Darling stopped chewing. “My brother?”
“Yes, your brother. Hunter told me that Dexter was amazing in Hero Training today. Maybe even better than Daring.”
Apple set the platter aside. “That’s silly. Daring’s destiny is to be the most charming prince ever after.”
Ashlynn poured herself some sparkling cloud water. “What did he do that was so amazing?”
“I heard about it, too,” Cerise said under the hood of her red cape. “They were learning how to joust, and Dexter was the best in class.”
“But he’s so not athletic,” Briar said as she stretched out on one of the couches. “Who could have guessed that a hero was hiding behind those glasses?”
“He does have dreamy eyes,” Holly said. She smiled at Darling. “Your brothers are sooooo cute.”
Darling ate another tart, not offering an opinion about the handsomeness of her brothers. Duchess Swan didn’t add to the conversation, either. She sat separately from the others and wore her usual sneer.
“Good afternoon, girls.” Madam Maid Marian sauntered into the room. She wore her signature cone hat and veil. But, like last time, it was oddly paired with her tunic and leggings. It seemed as if she couldn’t quite decide whether she should dress the damsel or dress the rebel. She tossed her black bag aside, then helped herself to a tart. As she sat on her desk, her legs swung freely. “So who can tell me what the lesson is for today?”
Holly pressed a button on her MirrorPad. “It says in our syllabus that we’re supposed to work on crying for help.” Then she read the instructions out loud:
Class: Damsel-In-Distressing
Lesson: A Cry for Help
Obstacles, such as a thick briar patch or pea-soup fog, can make it difficult for the rescuer to locate the damsel. Thus a good strong set of vocal cords is handy indeed. Calling “Help!” at the top of her lungs will guide the rescuer in the right direction.
Instructions: Take turns standing in front of the classroom and crying for help. The loudest gets hextra credit. Try to avoid laryngitis, for a damsel who is unable to scream may miss out on her rescue and not get her Happily Ever After.
Apple volunteered to go first. She stood in front of the class, smoothed her hair, then said, “Help, help.”
Madam Maid Marian shook her head. “You sound like you’re in a library. Surely you can turn up the volume.”
“But I’ve always been taught to use my inside voice,” Apple said sweetly.
Darling had been taught the same lesson. A Charming princess should be seen, not heard.
“Well, this is the exception to that stupid—” Madam Maid Marian cleared her throat. “I mean, this is the exception to that traditional rule.” She strode onto the stage. “The trick is to take the deepest breath you can manage, then force the sound by using your diaphragm.” She cupped her hands around her mouth and hollered, “Help!”
Apple frowned. “But why should I yell? I’m going to be in a glass coffin, practically in a coma, after eating a poisoned apple. So yelling makes no sense.”
“And I’m going to be inside a big, bad wolf,” Cerise said with a slight growl. “I don’t think it’s possible to yell and be heard from in there, is it?”
Madam Maid Marian threw her hands in the air. “Oh, come on, ladies. This is a chance to let your hair down.”
“Let my hair down? I’ll do it!” Holly hurried to the front of the room. “Help! Help!” she yelled.
Duchess elbowed her way between them. “I don’t even have a rescuer, but this looks like fun. Heeeeeelp! And I’m a dancer, so of course I have amazing lung capacity. Heeeeeelp!”
Briar climbed up onto the desk and started hollering. Ashlynn stood on a couch and joined in the cacophony. Even Apple found her outside voice. But Darling sat quietly. The scene made her very uncomfortable. She was used to acting un-princess-like, but never in public.
“Come on,” Madam Maid Marian said, waving for her to join the others.
“What in Ever After is going on in here?” Headmaster Grimm strode into the room. The girls fell silent. “I’m getting complaints from the other teachers that a great disturbance is coming from this very classroom. Damsels should not be disruptive. What are you teaching them, Professor Marian?”
“I’m following the recommended curriculum,” she said. “We are practicing calling for help.”
“I see.” He nodded. “Then that is most appropriate. Carry on.” Once again, the room was filled with shouting, hollering, and screaming. Darling, however, remained on the settee. She could yell as well as the rest of them. But after being a hero for the morning, screaming for help felt so… humiliating.
Madam Maid Marian didn’t press her to join the others. But when class was dismissed, she said, “See you all on Thursday for our final lesson before Parents Weekend. Ms. Charming, I would like to speak with you.”
Once they were alone, Darling hung her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t participate. I don’t think my parents would approve of my making so much noise.”
“Perhaps not. But would they approve of your other activities?” Darling tried to hide her surprise. Madam Maid Marian raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to act the part for me. I know a Rebel when I see one.”
“Rebel?” Darling squared her shoulders. “I’m not a Rebel.”
Madam Maid Marian opened her black bag and pulled out an arrow. The shaft was made from pale birch, and three green feathers were bound to the end. It was exactly like the arrow Darling had found at her feet that very morning in the Enchanted Forest.
Had Madam Maid Marian seen Darling riding?
They each paused, as if to measure the other’s reaction. “I understand that your brother has princely pox,” Madam Maid Marian said, breaking the silence. “And yet he was able to ride a horse and hit a target dead on. Who knew that Dexter could be capable of such a show of strength?”
“He’s a much better athlete than everyone thinks,” Darling said.
“And perhaps you’re not as quiet as everyone thinks.” She pushed her veil aside and winked. “Guess you truly can’t judge a book by its cover.”
Darling gulped. “I guess not.”
Chapter 14
Banned Books
At an early age, Darling had become an expert at judging a book by its cover. Well, one book, to be specific. If the cover was made of pink leather, the title embossed in gold leaf, and the whole thing covered in glitter, then she knew, without reading a single page, that the book belonged to a particular set known as the Princess Collection. And that it would bore her to tears.
The Princess Collection, Volumes 1 to 10, contained all the famous traditional princess stories—the ones full of rescues and Ha
ppily Ever Afters. The Charming Committee on Appropriate Reading Material had given this collection its gold-star approval rating. And so, each night before she went to bed, Darling was read a story from one of the volumes. But when she learned to read on her own, she ignored the Princess Collection and grabbed one of Dexter’s graphic novels instead. The librarian was hastily summoned.
“My daughter is in need of proper reading material,” Queen Charming explained.
The librarian was a woman named Madam Grimm, descended from the famous bookish Grimms. Madam Grimm was the executive librarian at the village library, where she kept order with her magical shhh. Anyone on the receiving end of one of her shushes would not be able to utter a word until leaving the library.
The queen, Darling, and Dexter had walked to the castle’s foyer to greet the librarian. As round as she was tall, Madam Grimm wore a stretchy pantsuit and casual loafers. Her eyeglasses were as large as saucers. “Hello, children,” she said with a bright smile.
“Hello,” they replied. Dexter was so excited about getting some new books that his glasses fogged up. Darling yawned. She already knew what the librarian would bring her—some old, boring story that she’d already read.
“En garde!” Daring and King Charming charged into the foyer, their swords raised. Daring jumped onto a table and knocked over a vase of flowers. The king advanced with a circular parry, slicing through a candelabra in the process. Madam Grimm ducked as Daring’s counterparry nearly sliced an inch off her beehive hairdo.
“My dear,” the queen said to her husband, “must you do that here? We have a guest.” She pointed to the librarian, who was looking rather alarmed by the sudden increase in violent activity.
The king glanced at the librarian’s cart, which was full of books. Then he pointed his blade at Dexter. “You’re not going to waste time reading, are you? Haven’t you got mountains to climb? Horses to train? Dragons to slay?”
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