“Sire,” Madam Grimm said with a scowl. She patted her hair back into place. “Reading is never a waste of time. In fact, I think it would be advisable if your elder son took up the activity every once in a while.”
“If I’m going to read something, I think it should be a book about me,” Daring said. “Has anyone written my biography yet?” Then he slashed the air with his sword, knocking the head off a nearby statue. When the head hit the stone floor, the royal hounds began barking.
“There is too much commotion in here,” the queen said apologetically. “Please, come into the sitting room.” She ushered Madam Grimm down the hall and into a plush room with a breathtaking view of the eastern mountain chain. “I’m eager to see what you’ve brought the children.”
“Did you bring me the latest Super Prince?” Dexter asked, practically bouncing off the walls. Darling settled on the couch. Dexter would lend her his copy when he’d finished. In secret, of course.
Madam Grimm plucked a book from the cart and held it up to the chandelier’s light. “For the young prince, who loves adventure stories, I’ve brought an illustrated edition of Escape from Minotaur Mine.”
Dexter grabbed it. “Wow, thanks!”
“You also get a pop-up edition of Dragons Near and Far, a new mystery called Mayhem on the Fairytale Express, and… the latest book in the Super Prince series.”
Dexter cheered. He collected all the books, ran to the corner, and began reading.
Darling’s fingers felt twitchy. She wanted to grab one of her brother’s books. She loved hero stories. And adventure stories. And mysteries. And if she had to read one more helpless-damsel-gets-rescued-by-true-love-and-lives-happily-ever-after story, she’d scream!
“What have you brought for my daughter?” Queen Charming asked.
“Something truly fitting such a perfect princess.” The librarian held up a book with a glittery pink cover and gold-embossed title. A groan emerged from Darling, the likes of which had never been heard at Charming Castle.
“My darling,” the queen said worriedly. “Are you ill?”
The groan reached a crescendo, then Darling took a huge breath of air. “Cinderella?” she shrieked, pointing at the pink book. “Are you kidding me? I’ve read it a zillion times. Shall I sum it up for you? Unhappy girl meets prince, gets rescued by prince, then they live happily forever after. There’s nothing new. It’s boring! It’s the most boring story in the entire world!” Dexter looked up from his book, as surprised as everyone else in the room. Darling was throwing a royal fit. “I want to read a book about a princess who goes on a quest. Who has an adventure for once in her life.”
“Those stories do not exist,” the queen said. “Now, sit down and stop hollering. Princesses do not holler.”
“Actually…” The librarian adjusted her enormous glasses. “Those stories do exist.”
“Really?” Darling couldn’t believe it.
“Yes, indeed. There are many stories about the Amazonian Queen and how she ruled her nation of female warriors. And there is the story of Artemis, a young goddess who could hunt with a bow and arrow. My favorite would be the story of Atalanta, who could run faster than almost any man. And Maid Marian recently wrote about her adventures in the Sherwood Forest.”
“I want to read those stories,” Darling said. “All of them. Right now. May I? Please?”
Madam Grimm shook her head. “They are banned, I’m afraid, in your kingdom. The Charming Committee does not approve of such literature.”
“But—”
“That’s enough of that,” the queen said, rising to her feet. “Thank you for bringing such lovely, appropriate books. I shall have the butler escort you to the front door.” She rang a small bell.
Madam Grimm set the pink Cinderella book on the couch next to Darling. “Happy reading.” Then, pushing her wheeled cart, she followed the butler out of the sitting room.
Darling looked pleadingly at her mother. But the queen was not swayed. “Your big blue eyes will not change the fact that we have traditions to uphold, my darling,” the queen said. “Your temper tantrum was not befitting a Charming princess. I am most displeased.” Then, with a swift turn on her heel, she glided from the room, her gown rustling as if it were also displeased.
That night, as Darling got ready for bed, a gentle knock sounded on her door. When she opened it, she found, not a person, but a book lying on the floor. It wasn’t a pink book. It was called Secrets of the Sherwood Forest by Maid Marian. The cover showed a woman dressed in pants and boots, holding a bow and arrow. Darling grabbed the book, then quickly closed the door.
She hugged the book to her chest and smiled. “Thank you, Dexter,” she whispered. He’d come to her rescue, just as he’d promised.
Chapter 15
Squire Darling to the Rescue
Thursday followed Wednesday, as it tended to do, except for that one time when the Science and Sorcery class accidentally conjured a time spell and the days of the week got jumbled. Thursday meant that there’d be a meeting of both Hero Training and Damsel-In-Distressing. Darling didn’t have to worry about the hero class, because firstly, she wasn’t a hero, and secondly, she’d had no right impersonating her brother and attending class in his name. Seriously, that had been wrong. And she should never do anything like that again.
She called Dexter. Hunter answered his MirrorPhone and said that Dexter was still sick in bed. As she showered and dressed, one question spun around in her mind. How could she make things right for her brother? When he did go back to class, he’d be expected to joust with nearly perfect precision. Maybe he could learn to match her skills eventually, but not by this weekend! What could be done to save him from further embarrassment?
Only one answer came to her, and though she debated it over and over, it seemed to be the only solution. It would require more risk, but that didn’t worry Darling. These days, Risk was practically her middle name.
She couldn’t wait to share her plan with Dexter. After a hurried breakfast of lumpy porridge, she headed to her brother’s dorm room. Along the way she accepted two boxes of chocolates, caused a fight to break out, and was handed a rather prickly uprooted rosebush. “Uh, thanks,” she said.
Up ahead, a group of boys crossed the commons, with Daring in the lead. Dressed in their suits of armor, helmets tucked under their arms, they were stirring up quite a bit of attention. Even Darling stopped to watch the procession. No matter which side of the aisle you stood, Royal or Rebel, the knight in shining armor was one of the most celebrated characters in the fairytale world. As the morning sun glinted off their chain mail and crests, a little shiver darted up her spine.
Today it was her turn to be the hero, for she was determined to save Dexter’s reputation.
Well, actually, she was determined to ruin it.
Darling’s idea was this. Because of her nearly flawless display in class, she’d set a standard that Dexter could never meet. Even if he had a new visor that fit over his glasses, the truth was that Dexter possessed a very different skill set than his brother or sister did. It was stressful enough that everyone expected him to be number two, but now they expected him to be better than he could ever be.
So Darling’s answer was to go to Hero Training class dressed as Dexter and erase her previous performance. She’d miss the target, she’d lose her balance, and she’d show everyone that it had been a fluke and that Dexter was back to his old self. Then, when he got over princely pox and returned to class, everyone’s expectations would be back to normal.
She knocked on the door, and when no one answered, she tiptoed in. “Dex?” she whispered. Hunter was with the other Hero Training students, and Mr. Cottonhorn was nowhere to be seen. Dexter, however, was in bed, fast asleep. The spots on his face had gone from a pale blue to royal blue, which was more fitting his complexion, but still looked weird. His medicine sat on the bedside table. She glanced at the red warning label: CAUSES DROWSINESS.
Poor guy. Should she wake hi
m? Her hand floated above his shoulder. What if she woke him and he told her not to go to Hero Training? What if he forbade her? She tapped a finger on her chin. Perhaps she shouldn’t wake him. After all, sleep was important. It would be selfish of her to interrupt his recovery. She’d go to class, then come back and tell him the good news—that once again, Professor Knight and the students didn’t expect more from him than second-best.
And so, after slipping into her workout shirt and pants, and tucking her dress, heels, and tiara under Dexter’s bed, she put on the armor. Then she flipped her hair, slowing time so she could run down the hall and get to the field just as class was beginning.
“Dexter?” Hunter said as Darling strode toward him. “What are you doing here? You looked terrible this morning. I thought you were too sick to joust.”
She didn’t have to respond, because her brother stepped in. “Charmings are never too sick,” Daring said as he checked his reflection in her visor. “We have superior immune systems. How does my hair look? Do I have helmet hair?”
“Squires!” Professor Knight rode onto the field. His horse was a swaybacked old thing with a white beard that matched his own. “Gather ye round.” The students clustered together, their faces turned up toward the professor. Darling was the only student wearing a helmet. “On this day, which is today, thou shalt face one another on the field.” Then he looked directly at Darling. “Squire Charming, how good of you to join us. A true knight would never allow a little malady like princely pox to slow him down. Be it known that I once jousted when I had an inflamed hangnail.” Then Professor Knight explained the jousting rules.
The field was divided by a short fence, which prevented the horses from colliding. Two riders competed at a time. They took their places on opposite ends of the fence, facing each other. A shield was held in one hand, a lance in the other. The horses had been trained to ride the length of the fence, so there was no need for reins. When the trumpet blasted, each rider hollered: “Charge!” The goal was to hit the opponent’s shield with the lance. Hitting the shield and breaking your own lance earned the highest score. Hitting the shield and unhorsing the opponent earned the second-highest score. But missing the shield earned a big, fat fairy-fail.
“Be advised,” Professor Knight said, “that whilst your lances are sharp, Professor Rumpelstiltskin hath placed a safety spell on each one. Thus there wilt be no skewering of flesh in this class.” An audible sigh of relief rose among the students. “Squire Charming and I shall now demonstrate.”
Daring and the professor took their places. Daring’s steed was young and muscular. The professor’s horse was bowlegged and arthritic. This didn’t seem like a fair match. But when the trumpet sounded, the old horse managed to summon a surprising show of strength. “Charge!” Dust rose from beneath their hooves as they thundered along the fence. Daring’s aim was perfect, hitting the professor’s shield in the exact center. But the professor’s aim was equally exact. Each lance cracked in two, the tips flying through the air. Daring whipped off his helmet. With a shake of his head, his locks fell perfectly into place. Then both he and the professor bowed. Everyone cheered.
And so it went that each student took his turn riding the course. Quite a few missed the shield entirely. A few others were unhorsed by direct shield hits. Darling couldn’t risk being unhorsed, for that could mean possible injury, which would lead to her identity being discovered. How could she lower the professor’s expectations but avoid being hit at the same time?
It would soon be her turn. She looked around for Sir Gallopad. Where was he? “Take my horse,” Daring said, offering his steed.
She shook her head. There was no time to learn the nuances of a different horse. She and Sir Gallopad were perfectly suited. And he’d get jealous if she chose another. But where was he? An odd movement on the horizon caught her eye. She peered through her visor, then smiled. Sir Gallopad was using his camouflage skills so he could graze in peace. His legs blended into the tall grass, while his upper body blended into the distant forest. She whistled. As he raised his head, his body turned jet-black. Then he joined her on the field.
Hunter slapped her back. “Good luck, roomie.” He mounted his horse. “I’ll try not to maim you.” It was all in good fun, but truthfully, thanks to all the ax-throwing, Hunter was one powerful guy. Darling decided to add firewood chopping to her workout routine.
“Looks like you found yourself a good horse,” Daring said. She nodded. He set a footstool next to Sir Gallopad. “Good luck.”
As she stepped onto the footstool, she remembered to act like Dexter. So she pretended to be a bit wobbly. Only after the third try, and a big groan, did she manage to pull herself onto the saddle. Daring handed up the shield, then the lance. “You’re not too sick? You gonna be okay?” She nodded. “That’s the spirit!”
Hunter waited on the other end of the field. She went over the plan in her head. To lower expectations, she would hit Hunter’s shield, but not hard enough to break the lance. At the same time, she would send most of her strength to her legs, so as not to fall from the saddle. She took a deep breath. The trumpet was raised. Her adrenaline soared. She tightened her grip on the lance. This would be her last chance—her only chance to joust. Never again would she have this opportunity. Today she was a knight. Tomorrow and for the rest of her life she’d be a damsel.
And as the trumpet blasted, Darling’s plan was shattered.
Chapter 16
A Charming Confession
I don’t believe it.” Dexter spit a thermometer from his mouth. “Is this a joke? Tell me it’s a joke.”
Darling yanked off the helmet and tossed it aside. “I’ll explain everything, but first I’ve got to change before Hunter comes back.” Dexter was sitting up in bed. A Castleteria tray, two empty bottles of Jack Frost Glacier Water, and a dozen comic books lay on the floor. Darling made a mental note to ask Apple about those cleaning dwarves. Mr. Cottonhorn, the jackalope, was sitting on the windowsill, munching on a bundle of carrot tops. “By the way, you jousted against Hunter today and you won.”
Dexter gasped. “I did what?”
“It was a bull’s-eye hit. Center of the shield. The lance split perfectly.” She pulled the chain-mail tunic over her head. “You were amazing. Everyone congratulated you. You got the highest score! Again! Think how impressed Raven will be when she hears.”
Dexter folded his arms. He didn’t say anything. She reached under his bed and grabbed her dress, shoes, and tiara. Then she quickly changed in the bathroom. “I know you told me not to go,” she said as she borrowed a comb and tried to refluff her hair. “But I had to, Dex. I wanted to help you and—”
“This isn’t about me,” he grumbled.
“Of course it’s about you. I messed things up, so I was trying to make them right. I—” She stared into the bathroom mirror, gazing into her own blue eyes. “I—” During the joust, she hadn’t been thinking about Dexter. But she had been thinking about how much fun she was having. How thrilling it felt. She’d forgotten her plan. She dropped the comb into the sink. “You’re right.” She stepped back into the room. “This was about me. I’m so sorry. Now I’ve royally messed things up.”
A clanging sound echoed in the hallway. The dorm room door flew open, and Hunter walked in, still dressed in his armor. He looked confused when he spied Dexter lying in bed, but he didn’t ask any questions. Instead, he pointed toward the hall. “King Charming is on the way.”
“Dad?” both Darling and Dexter said. But there was no time to get their stories straight and no time for Darling to flip her hair and escape, because King Charming was already standing in the doorway. He was dressed in a pin-striped suit and a black dress shirt. He wore his crown, of course. A Charming never leaves the castle without a crown. Darling quickly grabbed her tiara and plopped it back on her head.
“Hello, children,” the king said. Dexter scrambled out of bed and shook his hand.
“It’s very nice to see you,” Darling said
with a curtsy. “But what are you doing here? Parents Weekend doesn’t start until tomorrow.”
“I came early to meet with the headmaster. He needs additional funding, and we Charmings always seem to have the deepest pockets.” He pointed to the windowsill. “Does that bunny have horns?”
“Yes,” Dexter said.
“How odd.” He walked over to the window and looked outside. “I see that the Evil Queen’s daughter is walking in the garden. Her family must be very disappointed with her rebellious ways. Flipping the script is not something a Charming would do.”
Darling squeezed Dexter’s arm to let him know that his secret crush was safe with her.
King Charming glanced at his Royalex watch. “I have a few minutes before my next meeting, so I thought I’d check on Dexter.” He frowned at his son. “Your mother has been worried. We heard you had princely pox. I assume you are bravely fighting the illness and are on the verge of victory.” He slapped Dexter on the back.
Dexter coughed. “Uh, yes, sir.” His hand flew to his nose as he held back a sneeze.
“Excellent and expected news.” The king turned his attention to Hunter. “I see you’ve just come from Hero Training class. Are you learning to joust?”
“Yes, sire,” Hunter said.
“You are destined to be a woodsman by trade, so the knightly skills are not expected of you. However, you father was surprisingly adept on horseback. And a Huntsman is destined to be a hero, even if he is not a knight. Are you following in his footsteps?”
“I’m doing my best… er, sire.” Hunter stumbled on his words. He occasionally forgot how royalty like to be addressed—must be all that time he spent in the woods. But your son is definitely following in your footsteps. He was the best in class today. A perfect score.”
“That is no surprise. Daring was last year’s champion. He will, of course, be the best this year, too.”
“Actually, sire, I meant your other son.”