The Unfairest of Them All

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The Unfairest of Them All Page 4

by Shannon Hale

CERISE: Is news that Jack is done talking? ;)

  RAVEN: HA! No. I get to visit ur mom for YD!

  “Ah!” Jack shouted. “But did I take the egg five minutes ago, or just now? You don’t know!”

  Raven noticed something in Cerise had slumped.

  CERISE: cool

  RAVEN: Like u to come with me if u can

  CERISE: ?

  RAVEN: Luv to talk to ur M about going off book, but not sure she’d trust me with her secret. Unless u come?

  “But the skulk,” Jack continued. “The skulk is about the shrouding of the self without sacrificing movement. Watch!”

  More people gasped, and Raven looked up at the stage again. Jack was gone.

  “You aren’t being very sneaky,” someone whispered in her ear. Raven turned, and no one was there.

  “Am I here?” Jack shouted from somewhere far behind Raven. Everyone looked and saw nothing.

  “If anyone looks this way, they’re going to see you using your MirrorPhone,” whispered someone behind her. She whirled to see, again, nothing. Curses, but he was good!

  “Here I am!” Jack shouted, suddenly popping up in front of Raven. Raven shrieked, and everyone laughed or clapped. Jack smiled and looked around at everyone except Raven, but somehow was still whispering right at her. “Stay unnoticed by looking somewhere else. Show focus on everything but what you’re actually doing.” He walked away, waving at everyone, his voice receding. “And maybe learn to type blindfolded.…”

  “I’ll go with you,” Cerise whispered in her ear, and Raven jumped, off-balance from all the surprise whispering. “Sorry,” Cerise said, slinking back into her seat, and her cloak.

  “No, don’t be,” Raven said. “Thank you! We’re going to have an amazing time tomorrow.”

  Cerise smiled, and the teeth that peeked out made Raven wonder how people hadn’t realized that Mr. Badwolf was her father a long time ago.

  Hey, Narrator!

  Yes, Maddie?

  Oh, hi! I was just wondering, why are you more talkative when I’m around Apple or Raven?

  Well, they’re the point-of-view characters for this particular story. Narrators like to follow the characters who do the most stuff, and in the story I’m currently telling, that’s Apple and Raven. It’s a fascinating philosophy really, you see—

  Fascinating, yeah. So where are you going for Yester Day?

  Oh! You’re thoughtful to ask. But it’s just for students, and I graduated long, long ago and far, far away, so to speak. I’ll just observe what you all do. My daughter, though—

  Wait, you have a daughter?

  Um… never mind, I’m not supposed to get personal. So what are your Yester Day plans?

  Since I can’t go to Wonderland, I thought about visiting some of the people in Neverland. You know, because it’s a relative of Wonderland. They both have the same last name: Land. Maybe they’re even sisters. Sisters are often similar, right?

  I can’t advise you, Maddie. You know I am just supposed to observe the story.

  Oh, I know, and you do a really good job of it.

  Why, thank you.

  Though you are so secretive sometimes I just want to blow out my cheeks and call myself a balloon! I mean, you knew all along that Mr. Badwolf was Cerise’s dad, didn’t you?

  Uh…

  So it’s true!

  But… but I didn’t confirm anything!

  Or deny, either. Oh, I just love our little talks. Thanks, Narrator!

  Argh!

  OLD KING COLE WAS EVERY BIT THE MERRY old soul Apple was expecting. Even beneath a thick white beard longer than he was tall, you could tell he was constantly smiling. He was roundheaded, round-bellied, everything about him a bouncy ball of merriness.

  “Sit! Eat! Play checkers!” he said when she arrived, his normal speaking tone a cheery shout.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Apple settled into one of the low, cozy pillow chairs in his royal receiving room and moved a red checker on the board. Even that made the king laugh.

  Old King Cole had attended one of her mom’s dinner parties once. While some of the royal guests sat stiffly at their dinners with raised pinkies and bored eyes, Old King Cole had laughed. He laughed when the servants brought out the bread course, he laughed when he spilled his soup, he laughed and laughed till everyone else was laughing, too.

  Apple figured that a man that happy must hold the secret to successfully ruling a kingdom.

  “I was hoping you could tell me, Your Majesty,” she said, “how a ruler might manage public unrest.”

  “Eh?” he said, holding a hearing trumpet up to his ear.

  She leaned forward and politely spoke into it.

  “How do you manage unrest?”

  He played two quick jumps on the checkerboard. “Drink some warm milk, dearie! Ha! Or check for peas under your mattress!”

  “No, not lack of rest.” She jumped a checkers piece over one of his. “I mean, more specifically, how should a monarch handle ill will in the populace?”

  “William Poplas is ill again? We used to call him Illy Willy in nursery-rhyme school! Ha!”

  “Yes,” she said, smiling, not sure if he was telling a joke. “Well, do you have any experience in dealing with angry mobs?”

  “Is ‘angry mobs’ the name of one of those roc music bands? Ha! The ones that sound like a giant bird shrieking?”

  “I, um…” Apple was doing her best to follow this conversation. A roc was a monstrous bird of legend.

  “You can keep your hipping and hopping and knuckle-rapping music! I’ll stick with my fiddlers three!” The king gestured to the two old women with violins in the corner who were playing the same jaunty tune over and over.

  Apple frowned. “There are only—” she started, but the two violinists widened their eyes and shook their heads earnestly. Apple shut her mouth.

  “I’m just teasing you, my girl!” said the king. “Listen, the populace is happy when their ruler is happy. So just be merry!”

  Old King Cole slapped one of his checkers forward.

  “King me! Ha! Or don’t bother! I’m already king! Ha ha!”

  Perhaps Old King Cole hadn’t been the best choice. He was a merry old soul. But Apple was certain that laughing loudly couldn’t solve Ever After High’s problems.

  She let him beat her at checkers before taking her leave and skipping out to the Cole Castle wishing well. She opened her MirrorPhone, selected another character’s location on her Yester Day app, and stood on the well’s edge.

  The water blinked silver below her, and Apple swallowed. No matter that it was 100 percent safe, traveling by wishing well gave Apple witchy chills.

  She sang a couple of nursery rhymes to calm her pounding heart, pushed SUBMIT on her phone, and jumped in.

  She heard a splash but felt no wetness, only a cool whoosh like a sudden spring wind. Through her tightly shut eyes, she could see flashes of light. Her stomach felt full of winged pixies, and when she peeked, she was inside a glowing sphere, rising above the water of a different well. She pressed END on her MirrorPhone. The sphere bounced her up and out, and as soon as her feet touched down on the grass beside the well, the sphere popped like a soap bubble.

  Apple brushed off her spotless red-and-gold skirt, fluffed the puffed sleeves of her quilted white jacket, and took in her surroundings.

  The wishing well stood near the Buff Castle drawbridge. The castle itself was built of pale wood rising to square towers. Emperor and Empress Buff. They might be helpful. After all, they’d had to deal with some uncomfortable issues with that whole invisible-clothing fiasco.

  The grand front doors opened to a servant in a red jacket adorned with several hundred brass buttons.

  “Princess Apple,” he said, bowing deeply. “We have been expecting you.”

  A warm, fruity draft came rolling out the door.

  “Mmm,” she said. “Apples.”

  The servant beamed. “In honor of your visit, the pastry chef is
making apple tarts!” He paused. “Though, er, now that I think about it, perhaps that was rude. It’s not as if we’re implying a desire to bake you into a pie.…”

  Apple laughed. “It didn’t even cross my mind,” she said, though it had. “I think I would love apple desserts even if my name were something silly, like Pear.”

  He stared, his mouth a little open.

  “Did I say something wrong?” she asked.

  “My name is Pear,” he whispered.

  “Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry. What a lovely name.”

  He coughed, cleared his throat, and seemed to remember himself. “Please come in.”

  As they entered the grand hall, Apple heard shouting.

  “Jason! Put that on this instant! Our guest will be here any minute!”

  Apple smiled, assuming the empress was dressing her young son. But when Apple entered the receiving room, there was no child to be seen.

  The empress was tall, imposing, and beautiful, and she wore as many layers of clothing as seemed to be physically possible—silk camisoles, ruffled cardigans, fur-lined capes, skirts with a dozen petticoats, and a huge belt over it all. She was so stiff with clothes she could barely bend her arms. Perhaps, Apple considered, the empress was overdressed in contrast to the man beside her, who wore nothing but loose cotton shorts and a leather vest. Apple realized it was the emperor himself the empress had been hastily dressing. She supposed that old habits die hard.

  “Emperor and Empress Buff, may I present Princess Apple White,” Pear announced, bowing.

  The emperor was lounging on a beanbag, his bare feet resting on a side table. He was stout, bald, and clean-shaven.

  “What up, Apple!” said the emperor, lifting two fingers in the peace sign. The empress closed her eyes briefly and sighed.

  “It is a pleasure to have you among us, Princess Apple, daughter of Snow White,” the empress said. She dismissed the servant.

  “Good-bye, Pear! It was nice to meet you!” Apple called after him.

  The empress frowned. “Why did you just call my servant a fruit?”

  “Oh, he told me that was his name.”

  “His name is Pear?” the emperor asked. “That’s pretty cool.”

  They didn’t know his name? Apple knew all one hundred and twenty-four workers in her castle by name.

  “Your Majesties, thank you for seeing me. I’ve come with a lot of questions,” said Apple. “I am co-president of the Royal Student Council—”

  “Ah, I was president myself,” said the empress.

  “Wonderful!” Apple said. “I’m in a situation that I’ve never encountered before.”

  Apple told the empress about Raven, Legacy Day, and the food fight. The empress’s eyes widened, her jaw clenched, her lips pursed together harder and harder.

  The empress stood in a flourish of petticoats and capes. “By all that is golden, girl, how could you let it get to this point?”

  “I, well, I… it…” Apple stammered.

  “Order is the cornerstone of authority,” the empress said, raising her arms up as if to catch and hold the entire world. She looked at Apple with piercing green eyes and put a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Once you lose control, you cease to be a leader.”

  Apple gulped.

  Through an open window, Apple heard someone yelling far away. The queen turned her head, like a dog listening for prey. She smiled.

  “Perfect. Come, take my hand. You will practice being a queen.”

  They marched out hand in hand, but Apple felt as if she were on a leash.

  “I’ll just stay here,” the emperor called after them. “Maybe slip into something more comfortable.”

  The empress pulled Apple through several corridors and into an enormous pantry. In the courtyard beyond the kitchen door, several servants were trying to shush two yelling men.

  “What are they arguing about?” Apple asked.

  “It doesn’t matter,” the empress said. “If you appear to care, you risk getting dragged into their mess. Now, march out there and take control.”

  “But—” Apple started.

  “Do it! Be the queen now that you will one day become. Show no weakness. Show no mercy. Make them do exactly as you say. You must master absolute control!”

  The empress gave Apple a small push.

  Apple walked forward, practicing angry faces and stomping her foot. She had to succeed. She had to. The happiness of all her friends at Ever After High was at stake.

  “Stop it!” she yelled. “Now!”

  The arguing did stop. Could it be this easy?

  “That’s Apple White,” someone said. “Snow White’s daughter.”

  “Yes,” said Apple White. “Empress Buff sent me here to stop all this… this… arguing! At once!”

  Pear turned to the two men, two farmers, each standing before his own wagonload of produce.

  “You’re lucky!” Pear whispered. “I was trying to warn you. You do not want the empress to hear any arguing. At least she sent this kind, generous princess in her place.”

  Apple flushed. Kind and generous princesses don’t usually yell and stomp their feet. She cleared her throat. “So… whoever is making the ruckus had better just leave… now, um… if you’d be so kind.”

  One of the farmers bowed his head, his chin quivering. He was short with a nearly square face and large ears. “I just wanted a chance to sell my crop to the pretty castle.”

  “Oh, you’ve never sold here before?” Apple asked.

  The farmer shook his head. “My wife’s been sick, so I daren’t leave her for as long as it takes to walk all the way to market. I was hoping—”

  “Well, Buff Castle is my customer,” said the other farmer. “You can’t go stealing other farmers’ customers!”

  “Don’t you shout at me!” shouted the first farmer, and it started all over again.

  “Please,” Apple tried to say. “Please, if you’d just… I have an idea if you’d calm—”

  “Enough!” said the empress, appearing in the threshold. “You!” She pointed at the farmers. “Leave. Now. And you!” She turned her pointy finger on the servants. “Get back to work.”

  Everyone scurried away like blind mice faced with a carving knife.

  “That, Apple White, is how you maintain control,” said the empress with a pleasant smile.

  The empress glided back into the castle. From down the corridor, Apple could hear her shout, “Jason! Vest on! Now!”

  And Apple was left alone in the kitchen courtyard. She stomped her feet. She tried shouting, “Behave! Right now!” She imitated the empress’s intimidating scowl.

  “Apple?”

  Apple whirled around. There stood Holly O’Hair. Her thick, long hair was done up in dozens of braids and hung in loops so it wouldn’t drag on the ground. Apple scowled, feeling embarrassed, but Holly must have mistaken her expression for annoyance.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, should I call you Miss White?” said Holly. “Or Your Majesty, or…”

  “No, no, Holly, of course you can call me Apple.”

  “Oh, okay. It’s still just so amazing to me that the actual daughter of Snow White is my actual friend! So what were you doing just now? Practicing a dance or something?”

  “Um, well, er, hey, what are you doing here?” she deflected.

  “Researching fashion,” Holly said, gesturing. Across the courtyard stood a cottage, and through the window Apple could see mannequins and sewing machines and tailors busy at work. “I never thought about fashion when I was homeschooled, but so many people at Ever After High are interested in it, so I thought I’d add a fashion column to the school newspaper I’m starting. Since I already interviewed all the tower fairytale characters for Yester Day, I’m using the rest of my time talking to experts in fashionable and edgy clothing designs. I thought Emperor Buff’s tailors would be good, since they made the most famous clothes in all of fairytales.”

  “Or they didn’t…”

  “Rig
ht.” Holly pushed a stubborn lock of hair out of her face and took a step closer. “Hey, are you okay?”

  The honesty of the question startled Apple. She shrugged. “I… I’m not sure I know how to be a good queen.”

  Holly gasped and grabbed Apple’s hands. “Apple, don’t think that! You’re perfect!”

  “No,” Apple said softly. “Empress Buff tried to show me how to lead through control and intimidation but… I failed. And I just felt so bad for those farmers. After all, Buff Castle must go through a great deal of produce.” Apple started pacing. “Perhaps they could temporarily reduce the original order by twenty percent and purchase that amount from the new farmer, thereby allowing him enough steady income to risk staying home from the market and selling locally so he can be nearby while his wife is recovering. But maybe I’m wrong and a queen can’t buy from both farmers, and a co-president of the Royal Student Council can’t please both Royals and Rebels, and everything is… is a poisonous mess.”

  “Um… what?” said Holly.

  “Never mind,” said Apple. “See you back at school?”

  Apple hurried away to the wishing well, feeling the entire weight of Ever After pressed down on her shoulders.

  THE MORNING WAS DIM, WOLF-GRAY CLOUDS pouncing on the sun. Raven tugged on a black wool sweater as she and Cerise waited in line for the school’s wishing well. Holding her MirrorPhone inside her sleeve, she practiced hexting without looking.

  Cerise looked at her phone and laughed. “Why did you just tell me ‘Thus kind is slur’?”

  “Oops. I meant to type ‘This line is slow,’ ” said Raven.

  She kept practicing while the line inched forward. Ashlynn and Hunter were whispering behind her. Taking a cue from Jack, Raven listened without looking.

  “Who are you visiting?” Hunter asked.

  “Oh, you know, some princesses and queens,” said Ashlynn.

  “Right. So you can learn how to follow your destiny. And marry a handsome prince. And live in a castle. And be happy forever after.”

  “Hunter, stop, please. I don’t know what else I can do.”

  Hunter’s sigh was full of pain. “Neither do I.”

 

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