Sleeping Beauty Dreams Big

by Joan Holub

  As they practiced hand lettering, Rose couldn’t help but remember the magic pen from the Grimm brothers’ room that morning. Too bad she didn’t have it now. Calligraphy would be a snap!

  Later, at lunch, she told the other Grimm girls what had happened in Scrying, and they seemed suspicious about what Ms. Wicked was having Rose’s class do. Red and Snow took Scrying, too, but not till the afternoon, so they’d had no idea that Ms. Wicked was asking her classes to look for loopholes.

  “She’s up to something,” Red said, to which Cinda and Rapunzel nodded.

  Snow sighed. “No doubt you’re right.”

  Pea arrived just then and announced, “My name was pulled from the spin-the-straw box, so I went to this little room high in the library. Ms. Goose told me how to find it. You go through a door in Section S marked Spinning and then up a million or so winding stairs to a room where the spindle is. Anyway, so I went there and tried to spin that dumb straw into gold.”

  “I’m guessing it didn’t go so well?” said Rose.

  Pea rolled her eyes. “That’s an understatement. If you ask me, the principal is grasping at straws thinking anyone will ever be able to spin that straw into gold. They won’t.”

  “Why?” asked Rapunzel.

  “Because it doesn’t want to be spun. Every time I tried, it jumped out of my hands like some kind of loony wiggle worm.”

  Her description started the Grimm girls laughing.

  “I guess it was kind of funny,” Pea admitted, smiling, too. “But, seriously, I spent the whole time chasing it down. And I was super nervous because Principal Rumpus was majorly antsy while I was doing it — or trying to do it, anyway.”

  Rose was still smiling to herself about Pea’s funny story as the two of them went to fourth-period Comportment class on the second floor, which they’d discovered they had together. Rose’s palace tutors had schooled her in Comportment for years, so she already knew it was basically a class about manners. No biggie. This would be a cinch. As they entered the classroom, she saw a long table draped in linen. At one end were stacks of fancy plates, silverware, glasses, and napkins. The room was decorated with balloons and streamers as if they were going to have a party.

  The teacher’s name was written across the board on the front wall: Ms. Queenharts of Wonderland. Fittingly, her dress was covered with white, pink, and red hearts, and she wore a small red crown. As the girls crossed the room, they watched the teacher set three trays of cupcakes on the table, spacing them out down the center of it.

  “Mmm, cupcakes,” Rose remarked to Pea as they found desks next to each other behind the long linen-draped table. “I have a feeling I’m going to like this class!”

  Both girls giggled.

  Noticing their laughter, Ms. Queenharts aimed her laser-beam eyes in Rose’s direction. “Something amusing you, young lady? Maybe you’d like to tell the whole class?”

  “Um, no, thank you,” said Rose.

  “Well, one more outburst of giggles from either of you ladies, and it’ll be off with your heads! Off with your heads!”

  Rose’s eyes widened and her mouth formed a surprised O. Because this teacher was kind of hilarious. Though she probably didn’t mean to be, she was so over-the-top, it was funny. Rose couldn’t help giggling again. So it was a good thing for her that Ms. Queenharts had switched her attention to some other student and didn’t notice this time.

  “Today we will study the art of invitation etiquette, party planning and manners, and place settings,” Ms. Queenharts announced after the period began.

  Most of the class time was spent learning the proper way to set places for a large dinner party. Rose already knew where the various pieces of silverware went, even the unusual ones like grapefruit spoons and shrimp forks. As a princess, she’d eaten many fancy meals over the years.

  It was late in the period when they finally moved on to the other parts of the lesson. By now Rose was having a hard time trying not to yawn. She never felt well rested after a night of sleepwalking. But yawning during a lesson in manners seemed like a bad idea, so she tried her best not to.

  Suddenly, Ms. Queenharts said something that jolted her wide-awake. “You all know the tale of Sleeping Beauty.”

  Rose stiffened in her chair. Oh, grindlesnorts! Had this teacher guessed who she really was? She didn’t seem to be singling her out, though.

  Ms. Queenharts went on. “We will use this particular fairy tale as an example of the consequences of bad manners.” She gestured toward the table at the front of the room, which they had set during the earlier place-setting lesson. “Now, how many golden plates do you see?”

  “Twelve,” everyone answered.

  “Correct. The reason for the curse put upon Sleeping Beauty was that her family only invited twelve of the thirteen fairies in their village to the party celebrating their daughter’s birth. The thirteenth fairy was understandably upset. No one enjoys being left out. Assuming there had been some mistake, she went to the party, anyway. She was even thoughtful enough to take a gift, which she bestowed on the newborn child, despite her justifiable anger.”

  What? Speaking of anger, Ms. Queenharts’s twisting of her tale was making Rose steaming mad. The teacher had slanted the tale to make her family look bad. Well, she wouldn’t let her get away with that!

  “That’s not fair!” she blurted, jumping up. “My — um, that is, Sleeping Beauty’s — family owned no more than twelve golden plates. That’s the reason they only invited twelve fairies. Besides that, the thirteenth fairy was well-known to be grumpy and unkind. And her gift to Sleeping Beauty was a curse! Talk about bad manners!”

  “We’ll study mannerly and unmannerly curses later this year,” Ms. Queenharts replied with surprising calm. Her own manners were far milder now that she was engrossed in teaching. “But perhaps we can touch on the subject now,” she mused. “Is it ever acceptable to answer bad manners from someone else with bad manners of your own?” Her gaze scanned the students, a brow arched in question.

  In answer, some students voted yes and others no. Again, Rose couldn’t stop herself from speaking up. “But the thirteenth fairy’s curse was worse than bad manners, remember? It foretold that sometime after Sleeping Beauty turned twelve, she would prick her finger on a sharp object and die!”

  “That does seem way worse than just bad manners,” Pea agreed softly.

  Rose sent her a grateful look before going on. “Luckily the twelfth fairy had not yet given her gift. So after the thirteenth fairy uttered that horrible curse, fairy number twelve softened the curse so that Sleeping Beauty would only fall asleep for one hundred years. Sure, that thirteenth fairy was slighted by my father, but —”

  “Your father?” interrupted Ms. Queenharts. She pointed a finger at her. (Which was, of course, rude in itself, thought Rose.) “You! Why, you’re Sleeping Beauty, aren’t you?” the teacher guessed. “Of course you are! Rose. Briar Rose. Sleeping Beauty. All one and the same. I didn’t make the connection when you were first introduced this morning.”

  Everyone gasped and heads swiveled to stare at Rose. Suddenly realizing what she’d let slip, she toyed with the quill pen on her desk, gripping it hard as people began to whisper. Her birthday is coming up, isn’t it? We’d better be careful around her. Wouldn’t want her to get an injury and fall asleep for a hundred years.

  “Want me to hold your pen for you?” Pea offered gently. “So you don’t accidentally, um … you know … prick your finger?”

  Aghhh! Rose wanted to scream and cry and run away all at the same time. How grimmorrible! And her first day here had been going so well! But now she’d let the cat out of the bag and everyone was going all overprotective on her. Just as she’d feared would happen if anyone knew!

  Rose slumped in her seat. “No, you don’t need to hold my pen, but thanks, anyway,” she told Pea. “I don’t have to be careful till Friday. I’m not twelve … yet.”

  “Indeed, Sleeping Beauty’s father may not have meant to be unk
ind. And perhaps he didn’t intend to behave in an unmannerly way,” Ms. Queenharts admitted to the class, drawing their attention away from Rose at last. “However, the thirteenth fairy should never have been left out simply for lack of an additional gold plate. She could have been given another plate — perhaps a silver one.”

  Rose couldn’t argue with that. But really, who wanted to invite a grumpy fairy to a party? She could see that the fairy’s feelings might have been hurt. However, she’d way overreacted with that curse. And, in doing so, she’d pretty much changed Rose’s life forever. All because of hurt feelings.

  Luckily, the school clock began to bong just then. Rose grabbed her handbook, jumped up, and fled the room. She was so eager to escape, she even forgot to say bye to Pea. She just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. But where could she go to get away from everyone? And away from the truth. That she was cursed.

  Feeling desperate, she dashed downstairs and outside. She would go find Starlight and … and, what? She paused uncertainly as she reached the garden. Because there was really nowhere she could go to escape her curse. It would find her no matter where she went!

  If only she could somehow have one last great, amazing adventure before her birthday this Friday, though. Something she could remember forever. Even after she turned into a twelve-year-old wimpette who had to steer clear of anything remotely resembling fun in order to avoid a one-hundred-year nap. But what could that adventure be? She didn’t have much time.

  Clank. Clank. Clank. What was that? Rose stepped from the garden onto the lawn and peered toward the sounds. Directly across Once Upon River on the lawn next to Gray Castle, she could see a bunch of students wearing armor. Most were boys, but there were a few girls, too.

  Apparently, she’d just found her fifth-period Sieges, Catapults, and Jousts class by accident. One problem, however: She’d need to get across the river to attend it.

  Just then, a student walked past her. It was Jousting Boy! He glanced back at her, then stopped. “Lost again?”

  “Again? Oh, you mean like in the library this morning. Yeah, well, at least I’m not in my pj’s this time, right?” She managed a smile, and he smiled, too. “Really, I don’t know why I brought that up. Believe me, I’d rather forget about it. I have enough problems right now.”

  “Anything I can do?” he asked. When she shook her head, he seemed to take her at her word. With a wave good-bye, he headed down to the river’s edge, where he untethered a swan-shaped boat.

  “Wait! Are you crossing the river?” she called.

  When he nodded, she jogged to his side and climbed aboard. Only then did she ask, “Mind taking a passenger?”

  “Sure, but …” He looked around them uncertainly. “… to where?”

  Rose pointed to the opposite side of the river, where a man who had lots of muscles and wore a whistle around his neck was walking among the students on the lawn. They’d broken into groups now. Some were working with jousting poles, others were launching various objects high into the air using catapults. A third group seemed to be planning an attack on the castle, for class practice.

  “You want to talk to the coach? Does that mean you’re taking SCJ? Sieges, Catapults, and Jousts class?” he asked, tossing the rope that had tethered the boat inside it.

  When she nodded, he climbed into the boat with his jousting pole, still looking surprised at the idea, though she wasn’t sure why he should be. After all, there were several other girls in the class over on the lawn.

  “Got a problem with that?” Rose asked super-sweetly. Learning to joust back home hadn’t been easy for her, given how overprotective her parents had always been. However, she’d managed to get some of the palace guards to teach her the basics. And she’d sworn them to secrecy not to tell her parents about her love of the sport.

  “Nope,” he replied. “It’s just that when I was back in the hall a minute ago I heard someone say that you’re actually Sleeping Beauty?”

  She stiffened. News about her identity had sure traveled fast. “Uh-huh. So?”

  “So jousting poles aren’t all that sharp, but still. Pointy poles … your fairy-tale curse. Doesn’t seem like the two mix. Get my point?” The prince touched the tip of his jousting pole as if to demonstrate, then smiled at his joke.

  She scowled at him. “That’s my business,” she said rather hotly. “Besides, the curse in my fairy tale doesn’t kick in until my birthday on Friday. Till then, I don’t have to worry. And I’m good at jousting. So look out!”

  “Whoa! Okay, I will,” he said chuckling at her determination. He lay his jousting pole in the bottom of the boat and then picked up the oars and paddled them across. “It’ll be awesome to have you in class, actually. We could use some new, good competition.”

  When they reached the Gray Castle side of the river, he picked up his pole, jumped out of the boat, and then offered her a hand up. She took it, which was only proper princess manners, after all.

  As soon as she was on land again he gave her a grin over his shoulder. “Good luck, jouster,” he told her, then he jogged off ahead. She grinned, too, and followed, feeling her spirits lift a little at his easygoing attitude.

  “Coach?” she said, going up to the teacher, who had his back to her. In response, the coach leaped around, muscles tense, looking like he expected trouble.

  Grimmness! Was he always this jumpy?

  Seeing nothing amiss, he relaxed and greeted her calmly. After Rose explained she was to be in his class, she hurriedly added, “I’m most interested in learning the skills of a knight, like jousting and swordplay.”

  “Then suit up. Ask one of the other girls for some help,” he instructed her, pointing toward a pile of armor.

  “No help needed. I’ve worn armor before,” she called as she dashed off in the direction he’d pointed. And she had worn it — once. When she was seven years old, she’d taken down one of the suits of armor standing in the halls of the palace back home and put it all on, piece by piece. The armor had dwarfed her small body and been impossible to walk in. She’d wound up sprawled on her back with her arms and legs in the air, unable to flip herself over, like some kind of strange beetle. Plus, for all her trouble, she’d gotten a terrible scolding about sharp edges and such. But she wasn’t going to tell the coach that.

  Rose hurriedly suited up, draping plate armor over her dress, until she was covered in metal from the top of her head (helm) to the super-short skirt (tasset) that flared out from her waist. Luckily, this armor actually fit her! By the time she was ready, the coach was already standing before the jousters and had started to give a short introduction. She clanked over to join them. She was so excited to be in a real knight class!

  “Although lances may be used while mounted on horseback, today we will practice without mounts,” the coach told them. “Now, remember, a jousting lance’s tip is blunt. This will unseat your opponent from his horse rather than spear him and cause deadly harm. The shafts of our lances are hollow so that they will break on impact. Yet another safeguard. However, should you accidentally impale your opponent, it’s an automatic F in this class and expulsion from the Academy. Not to mention horrible. So no bloodshed! Got it?”

  “Got it!” the students shouted back in unison. Rose was a little disappointed. Was this class all going to be about safety? She wanted to get to the good part where they’d do some swordplay or something daring.

  Just then, one of the other student groups launched a large boulder from a catapult some distance away. When it landed off-target in the river with a huge splash, the racket sent the coach jumping a foot high. He stared toward the kids who’d misfired, his eyes bugging out.

  But then, after taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he turned back to Rose’s group again. “All right, jousters!” he said, punching an energetic fist in the air. “Get moving! And remember. Safety first. I’ll check back in a few minutes.”

  Before Rose could shut her visor, one of the boy jousters spoke to her. �
��Wait! Is it true? Are you Sleeping Beauty?”

  Drat. Recognized again! She nodded before quickly flipping down her visor. Still cross at herself for letting the cat out of the bag about her identity — and for letting Ms. Queenharts get under her skin — she played badly against all her opponents. Which were really just hay bales. The coach wasn’t taking any chances letting them joust with each other yet.

  The tall stacks of square hay bales were each hung with full-size pictures of menacing knights. Students ran and aimed their poles at the pictures. Though Rose was normally very coordinated, every move she made was off-balance today. She missed target after target, and almost broke her lance once.

  After a particularly clumsy thrust, she got frustrated and flipped up her visor. “C’mon. Just because I’m Sleeping Beauty doesn’t mean you should go easy on me!” she jokingly scolded the paper knight on her hay bale stack.

  Seeing some of the guys nearby staring, she swung around to face them. They had all been giving her a wide berth whenever they charged a target, waiting to make sure she was well out of their way before they ran. They were acting like she was made of fragile glass. It was annoying!

  Now she pointedly touched the end of her jousting pole with her fingers as they watched. “See?” she told them. “I touched something sort of sharp and didn’t crumple to the ground and start a hundred-year deep sleep or anything. So stop acting so proper around me, and act more … knightly, okay?”

  “You mean like him?” one of the boys asked in a laughing tone. He cocked the thumb of his steel-gloved hand toward another student.

  When the guy he’d pointed at raised his visor, Rose saw it was Jousting Boy, the one who’d rowed her over here. His lips curved in a slight smile, showing a hint of white teeth. The other students were grinning, too. She didn’t get it.

  “What’s so funny?” she demanded, wondering if they might be making fun of her.