“What is a smudge?” she asked.
Don’t say dragon, Carlos thought. The queen hates dragons!
“Smudge is…” Carlos began.
“Smudge is what?” The queen’s eyes seemed to grow more fiery by the moment.
Don’t say dragon, don’t say dragon, don’t say dragon! Carlos thought.
But Carlos’s brain could only come up with one word. And that word was dragon.
“Smudge is a…” he tried again.
“HORSE!” Pinky shouted. “We left the gifts with our horse!”
“Yes.” Carlos nodded. “Smudge is the name of our horse.”
“Do you want us to go back and get the presents?” Pinky asked. “From the horse?”
But Queen Cayenne ignored Pinky’s question.
“Let me get this straight,” the queen began. “You come to my home late. You dress like hoboes. You do not bring gifts. And, before you even walk through my front door, you attempt to leave. Is that correct?”
“Sort of,” Carlos said weakly.
“Meadows, please note every one of these transgressions,” the queen commanded.
“I have already noted them, Your Majesty,” Meadows said.
“Then note them again,” she said.
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Meadows scribbled notes as fast as the tip of his pencil would allow.
“Well, my dear nephew.” The queen’s wicked smile returned with a vengeance. “Your first impression is not very impressive. Not. Impressive. At all.”
CHAPTER 6
Carlos and Pinky were led to the Dominion Palace ballroom. Just like everything else in Dire Dominion, the ballroom was gray and brown. Even the four enormous stained-glass windows that lined the far wall were made from gray and brown glass. At first Carlos thought the windows might have been dirty. But no. The gray and brown glass glittered and sparkled like polished dirt.
“Well, isn’t that pleasant,” Pinky mumbled.
The ballroom dance floor was as large as a soccer field, with about three dozen dancers on it. The dancers were young princes and princesses from other kingdoms. All of them looked miserable.
Off in a far corner, a string quartet played a waltz, but it was hard to hear the whispery notes.
It was much easier to hear the burly guard at the front of the room. He stood on an elevated platform and yelled at the dancers below.
“FORWARD! SIDE! TOGETHER!” he yelled. “BACKWARD! SIDE! TOGETHER!”
A second guard with scars running up and down his face stood before a dance chart filled with footprints and arrows. When Burly Guard yelled a command, Scarred Guard used his sword as a pointer. He smacked the blade against the correct foot position on the chart. The dancers then obediently stomped their feet into that position.
So it was kind of like this:
“FORWARD!” shouted Burly Guard.
SMACK! went the sword.
STOMP! went the dancers’ feet.
“SIDE!” shouted Burly Guard.
SMACK! went the sword.
STOMP! went the dancers’ feet.
Carlos barely noticed. His mind was too troubled.
Queen Cayenne is going to destroy Faraway Kingdom because of me, he thought. Dire Dominion is going to destroy everything I love!
Pinky shook Carlos’s shoulder. “Come on,” she said. “The queen says everybody has to dance.”
Carlos’s eyes turned to the dance floor. He watched the young princes and princesses cling to one another, stomping in unison.
“This is a dance?” Carlos whispered.
Pinky nodded. “The box step. The most boring dance in the world. Come on.”
She pulled Carlos to one of the many empty spots on the floor. “Give me your left hand.”
“What?” Carlos was still distracted.
So Pinky grabbed Carlos’s left hand with her right.
Carlos wasn’t distracted anymore. He had never held a girl’s hand before.
“Put your other hand on my waist,” Pinky said.
“On your…?” Carlos could feel his face get red.
“Yes. My waist,” Pinky replied. She grabbed his right hand with her left and placed it where it belonged. “This is called dancing. Wake up.”
Pinky placed her left hand on his shoulder.
Carlos looked into Pinky’s eyes. “What do I do now?” he asked.
“Listen to the guy who’s yelling at us,” Pinky replied. “Start with your left foot.”
“FORWARD!” shouted Burly Guard.
Carlos moved his left foot forward. At the same time, Pinky expertly moved her right foot back.
“SIDE!” shouted Burly Guard.
Carlos moved his right foot to the side. Pinky moved her left foot to the side.
“TOGETHER!” shouted Burly Guard.
Carlos had to peek at the chart for that one. Then he slid his left foot toward his right. Pinky moved her right foot toward her left.
“Good,” Pinky said. “Now do it back ward, starting with your right foot.”
On Burly Guard’s “BACKWARD!” Carlos stepped backward. On “SIDE!” Carlos moved his left foot to the side. On “TOGETHER!” Carlos slid his right foot toward his left.
“There you go!” Pinky exclaimed. “You did the box step!”
“That’s it?” Carlos asked.
“That’s all.” She smiled. “Now keep doing it.”
Carlos smiled, too. The box step was kind of a boring dance, but dancing a boring dance with Pinky was kind of fun.
Before he could enjoy himself too much, however, Carlos began to worry again. His smile faded away.
“What’s wrong?” Pinky asked.
“I feel horrible,” Carlos replied. “Dire Dominion is going to destroy Faraway Kingdom.”
“You don’t know that,” she said.
“Yes, I do. I’ve already messed up so much,” he sighed. “Being late. The unbuttoned collar. The mud. The scuffs. The presents…”
“We can’t give up,” Pinky said. “We just need to look at our problem in a different way.”
“What do you mean by ‘a different way’?” Carlos asked.
“Look over there.” Pinky jerked her head toward the elevated platform. Prince Hortense, rail-thin and sleepy-eyed, was slumped on a golden throne. He watched over the activity below with frowny disinterest. He stuffed mini donuts into his mouth two at a time.
“He doesn’t look happy,” Carlos said.
“Why would he be happy?” Pinky replied. “The only thing more boring than doing the box step is watching other people do the box step. But maybe…”
Carlos continued her thought: “Maybe if we dance a different way…”
Pinky finished Carlos’s thought: “We’ll be the life of the party.”
Carlos was suddenly hopeful. “Maybe everyone will be so impressed with our dancing that Dire Dominion won’t go to war with us! That’s a great idea!”
“Do you know an impressive dance?” Pinky asked.
“Pfft. I’m a jester,” Carlos replied. “I probably know more impressive dances than you do.”
Pinky put her hands on her hips. “Oh, is this a throwdown?” she asked. “A dance off? Is that what you want?”
Carlos thought for a second. “Yes. That’s what I want.”
“Bring it,” Pinky said.
“I’ll start with a simple move,” Carlos said. “The Lawn Mower.”
With dramatic flair, Carlos crouched on the dance floor. He rhythmically yanked an imaginary pull cord for an imaginary lawn mower. After getting the imaginary lawn mower started, he grabbed its imaginary handle and strutted in a circle.
“That was good,” Pinky admitted. “But not good enough. I call this move the Get a Mop on That Floor.”
“Dazzle me,” Carlos said.
Pinky wrung out an imaginary mop in an imaginary bucket. Then, using a two-handed pushing motion, she swayed her hips as she pushed the imaginary mop across the floor.
“Okay, I’m d
azzled,” Carlos said. “I can see it’s time to bring out the big guns. This dance is called the Sorry, I Don’t Have Any Spare Change, But I’ll Be Happy to Use My Credit Card to Buy You a Sandwich.”
It was a complicated dance. Carlos delivered a big shrug. He pulled his pockets inside out. He raised his index finger to signify an idea. He mimed pulling an imaginary credit card out of an imaginary wallet. He two-stepped over to an imaginary sandwich shop. He selected imaginary toppings. He accepted his imaginary sandwich. Then he performed a happy-skippy, this-is-a-yummy-sandwich jig.
It was an impressive performance, but it didn’t impress everyone.
“STOP THAT TWITCHING!” Queen Cayenne screeched.
Everyone fell silent. Burly Guard stopped shouting. The music stopped playing. The miserable dancers stopped dancing miserably. Hortense stopped chewing his mini donuts. All eyes were on Carlos and Pinky.
“Oh, geez,” Carlos mumbled.
“Meadows!” the queen said. “Please make a note that Prince Carlos of Faraway Kingdom is an idiot!”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Meadows replied.
CHAPTER 7
After the dancing came the party games.
“Meadows, please note that Princess Pinky is too sulky,” the queen shouted.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Meadows replied. “Meadows, please note that Prince Carlos’s smile looks forced and unconvincing.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Meadows replied.
“Meadows, please also note that both Prince Carlos and Princess Pinky are refusing to take a swing at the piñata shaped like King Carmine’s head.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Meadows replied.
* * *
After the party games came dinner.
“Meadows,” the queen commanded, “please note that Prince Carlos dropped his salad spork on the floor!”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Meadows replied.
* * *
Through it all, Hortense did nothing except sleepily eat sweets. He didn’t play games or speak to anyone. He didn’t even open his presents. That was the queen’s job. She ripped off the wrapping paper and gave each gift a letter grade.
Hortense just kept eating. His mouth was ringed with a thick crust of frosting. His lap held a mountain of crumbs. Somehow he also got powdered sugar in his hair.
“Now, Hortense,” the queen announced after the last package was open and graded, “it is time to give you my present.”
The queen caressed her son’s cheek (and tried her best to ignore the sticky goo that rubbed off onto her hand). “I have been the absolute ruler of Dire Dominion ever since your father was killed by a dragon. That was ten years ago today. They have been the happiest ten years of my life. There is nothing more wonderful than absolute power, son. Nothing! So today, as my gift to you, I give you power. My power. All of it.”
She let that sink in for a moment, then said, “From this moment forward, you are the absolute ruler of Dire Dominion!”
Carlos’s mouth dropped open. “Queen Cayenne is giving absolute power to an eleven-year-old?” he whispered.
Pinky’s mouth dropped open, too. “No,” she replied, “Queen Cayenne is giving absolute power to a ten-and-three-quarters-year-old.”
The queen spread her arms as wide as they could go. “This dominion is all yours, son,” she exclaimed. “No need to thank me!”
Hortense didn’t thank her. Instead, he poked another donut into his mouth.
“To claim your power, all you need to do is follow the ancient Dire Dominion tradition,” she said. “On the day a new absolute ruler is selected, he or she must declare war.”
The queen scanned her audience. She looked delighted by the dozens of terrified faces staring back at her.
“Choosing an enemy is not an easy decision, Hortense,” she said, “so I’ll help you out.”
Burly Guard and Scarred Guard wheeled in a whiteboard. Scrawled upon it was a long list of names and numbers.
“Every kingdom on the continent is listed on this whiteboard,” the queen said. “Next to each kingdom is a number. That number indicates how many times the kingdom attempted to ruin your birthday party. A few kingdoms listed here have a score of zero. That means they didn’t ruin your party at all. These kingdoms respect Dire Dominion. These kingdoms respect you.”
The queen leaned over to kiss her son’s head but decided against it once she noticed all the powdered sugar. Straightening back up, she said, “Other kingdoms, however, do not respect you. The higher the number, the more that kingdom hates you.”
All eyes fell upon the board. The kingdoms were listed in ascending order. The lucky kingdoms, the zeros, were on the bottom. Most of the other kingdoms had scores in the single digits. The Democratic Republic of Dictatortot was third from the top with a score of thirteen.
Carlos was unable to catch his breath. Spot number two was Ever-After Land. And perched at the very top of the list, with a score of 592, was Faraway Kingdom.
How is that possible? Carlos thought. I haven’t even been here three hours! That’s, like, three mistakes a minute!
The queen smiled at Hortense. “All the evidence is before you, my wise son. It is now time to choose. Which kingdom shall we punish? Which kingdom will you destroy?”
King Hortense nodded. He licked his sticky fingers and wiped them on his silken robes, leaving long, chocolatey streaks behind.
King Hortense yawned. He yawned again. He rose from his throne and yawned a third time. Then he reached for another mini donut. Then he ate it. Slowly.
He turned his attention to the whiteboard. He carefully studied Faraway Kingdom’s score.
It’s going to happen, Carlos thought. Dire Dominion is going to declare war on Faraway Kingdom.
Carlos’s stomach cramped in pain.
“As my first act as absolute ruler,” Hortense began, “I will declare war on—”
But his last words were never spoken.
One of the ballroom’s stained-glass windows exploded into a million pieces. Gray and brown shards scattered across the dance floor. Princes and princesses screamed. Guards lunged for their weapons. The queen’s mouth dropped open. Hortense reached for another mini donut.
In the empty space where the window once stood was a large, angry horse.
“Cornelius,” Carlos sighed. “I knew this day would come.”
CHAPTER 8
Cornelius locked eyes with Carlos and charged.
Carlos reached for his sword. Before he could pull it from the scabbard, Cornelius was upon him. With his powerful head, Cornelius swatted the weapon from Carlos’s grasp.
Cornelius swatted again, and Carlos flopped backward onto the floor.
Before he could get up, the horse planted his heavy front hooves on Carlos’s shoulders. The boy was pinned to the floor.
Helpless.
“Wait!” Carlos protested. “Don’t whole-body stub me!”
As Carlos spoke, he flailed around in search of a weapon.
Cornelius let out a victorious snort. Whole-body stubbing was exactly what the horse had in mind.
That’s when Carlos felt a familiar object in his jacket’s breast pocket.
Cornelius bared his teeth in a wicked smile.
Carlos fished the object from his pocket.
Cornelius attacked!
Carlos reached for Cornelius’s face.
BZZZZ!
Carlos zapped Cornelius on the nose with his hand buzzer.
The startled horse flopped onto his butt. Carlos scrambled away, but Cornelius was soon hot on his heels.
Carlos put all his jester skills to use. He cartwheeled around the string quartet, somersaulted under the whiteboard, and leapfrogged over Meadows.
Cornelius had no jester skills, so he trampled the cello, snapped the whiteboard in half, and sent Meadows face-first into the punch bowl.
“Guards!” the queen wailed. “Stop that horse!”
But Cornelius could not be stopped. He barreled toward the
guards at a full gallop, knocking them down like a line of dominoes.
“Get out of here, Carlos!” Pinky yelled as she plunged a hand into her high hair. “I’ll distract him!”
Pinky yanked a paintbrush from her updo. At once, her hair began to unravel.
She dipped the brush into a dollop of cake frosting and leapt into Cornelius’s path.
The horse lunged, but Pinky sidestepped him and painted a frosting mustache on his upper lip.
“I call this move the Graffiti Artist,” Pinky said with a smirk.
Cornelius launched a second attack. Pinky sidestepped that one, too, and turned the horse’s mustache into a frosting goatee.
After Cornelius’s third attack, Pinky brushed on a pair of goofy glasses.
By the time Pinky was through with him, Cornelius was painted up more than a mustachioed Mona Lisa.
Through it all, Queen Cayenne screamed.
“GUARDS!” she shouted.
But the guards were too dazed to respond.
“MEADOWS!” she shouted.
But Meadows was still blowing bubbles in the punch bowl.
“THE ARMY!” the queen shouted. “WHERE IS MY ARMY?”
But the army never arrived.
Carlos was running out of options. He wasn’t fast enough or strong enough to outrun Cornelius for much longer. Carlos slid under a dinner table and hoped it would protect him.
It didn’t. Cornelius kicked the table across the room. It slammed against a wall and broke into a thousand splinters.
Cornelius approached Carlos. His frosting mustache twitched in triumph.
Carlos closed his eyes and awaited his terrible fate.
Instead he heard a terrible noise.
It was Smudge crashing through a second stained-glass window!
“A DRAGON!” The queen fell backward in terror. “HELP!”
The princes and princesses screamed and scattered.
Smudge didn’t seem to notice the ruckus. “Oh, hai, CC!” he said, gliding around the ballroom in a lazy circle. “I’m here to save you! Just like I said I would!”
“Smudge!” Carlos had never, ever been happier to see Smudge—and Carlos was always happy to see Smudge. “How did you get past those soldiers?”
Happily Ever Laughter Page 3