Transformation complete, she waddled out of the shrubs and jumped into her favorite Ever After High pond. Pirouette greeted her with a friendly nod, then went back to eating water bugs. The other swans were used to Duchess’s intrusion. They didn’t hiss at her or chase her away, as they did with other birds. Even though she was different from them, they allowed her to swim freely.
A unicorn statue stood in the center, spouting water from its horn. Water lilies covered the pond’s surface. Duchess slowly paddled her webbed feet. The waxy, round leaves parted as she glided through.
This was a lovely way to spend the evening. But as much as she enjoyed these moments with Pirouette at her side, with the water below and the starlit sky above, she was completely aware that she did not want to be in this form forever after.
Stop thinking such things, she told herself. You are not a Rebel like Raven.
Students walked past, some holding hands, some in groups. They paid no attention to Duchess. To their eyes, she looked exactly like the other swans. And she paid no attention to her fellow students, until the scent of deliciousness tickled her beak.
Ginger sat on a bench at the side of the pond. She opened a box of pastries and tossed some crumbs into the water. Pirouette and the others rushed over and began to peck at the crumbs. Duchess wasn’t hungry, and she was about to turn away when Ginger’s MirrorPhone rang. Duchess wouldn’t have eavesdropped, except she heard the word thronework. She swam over, pretending to be interested in the soggy offerings.
“Yes, Mother, it’s true, I’m supposed to do something rotten and nasty by the end of school on Friday.” Ginger fidgeted on the bench. “I know, Mother. I don’t want to disappoint you, but—” She sighed. “But—”
Ginger’s mom kept interrupting. Duchess couldn’t hear what she was saying, because her voice was muffled.
With the phone held to her ear, Ginger reached into the box and pulled out a moon pie. As she took a big bite, moonbeams shot out from between the layers of cake. “Yes, Mother, but—” Ginger chewed and nodded, listening to some sort of lecture. Duchess could only imagine: Do what you’re supposed to do. Uphold the family reputation. Do your duty. Blah, blah, blah.
Two swans pushed against Duchess as they stretched their necks for more crumbs.
“Of course I have a plan, Mother.” Ginger set the moon pie back in the box. “I thought of it all by myself. On Wednesday morning, I’m going to sprinkle sandman powder onto my popular cinnamon trolls and serve them for breakfast. Then everyone will fall asleep and miss their first classes of the day.” She smiled proudly, her teeth all chocolaty. “Then I’ll wake everyone up with super-strong hocus lattes.”
A shrieking sound burst out of the MirrorPhone’s speaker.
“No, Mother, I don’t need one of your recipes. I’m not going to poison anyone.” Ginger waved at Ashlynn Ella, who was walking past. “Okay, gotta go, Mother. Bye!” Ginger tossed the rest of the crumbs into the pond, then hurried off to join her friends.
Sandman powder doesn’t sound very evil, Duchess thought. And many students might be happy to miss their first class. With that sort of plan, Ginger surely wouldn’t become the Next Top Villain. Duchess made a mental note to avoid the cinnamon trolls on Wednesday morning.
The problem remained—even though Ginger’s plan didn’t sound terribly rotten and nasty, Duchess still needed a plan of her own.
It was getting late. More stars appeared in the sky. A group of cleaning fairies flew back toward the forest, leaving trails of blue and green glitter in their wake. Most of the students had headed indoors because it was time to get to bed. A good night’s sleep was important for a ballerina, so Duchess swam to the edge of the pond and was about to step onto the damp grass when she heard familiar voices. Mr. Badwolf and Headmaster Grimm had stopped for a hushed conversation. Duchess floated into the tall reeds, then cocked her head, listening.
“I’m getting mirror calls from parents day and night,” the headmaster said. “This Rebels nonsense has caused quite a stir. We’re supposed to be teaching traditions here, not rebellion.”
“We do our best,” Mr. Badwolf said with a cough.
Duchess swam a bit closer. Then she straightened her neck so she could see over the tops of the reeds. As usual, Headmaster Grimm was dressed in a long tailored wool jacket. A pocket watch hung from his waistcoat. He wrung his hands in a worried way. “The Charmings are threatening to send their children elsewhere if we don’t get this situation under control. So is the Ella family. If we lose important royal families and their funding, we might have to close the school.” His baritone voice was tight and higher than normal. “Educating the next Evil Queen is one of our most important duties.”
“I’m afraid Raven Queen shows little interest,” Mr. Badwolf said.
“Then we must begin to train someone to replace her, just in case. We need to be prepared.” Headmaster Grimm stroked his gray mustache. “Do any of the students in your General Villainy class show promise?”
Mr. Badwolf growled. “Unfortunately, they are the most pathetic group I’ve ever taught. There’s evil in their blood—no doubt about that—but they’ve diluted it with good intentions and… generosity.” He coughed, as if the word had choked him. “Ginger brought home-baked goodies to share.” He growled again. “Ms. Swan kept asking to be transferred. Why did you insist that she take the class?”
Duchess nearly honked, she was so hexcited by this question. Would she finally get an answer? As she held perfectly still, Headmaster Grimm looked around. Then he cleared his throat and said, “This is highly classified information, Mr. Badwolf. But I believe, as do others, that Duchess Swan has a black swan side that might make her the perfect candidate for Evil Queen status.”
“Black swan side?” Mr. Badwolf asked.
“Yes.” Headmaster Grimm turned toward the pond and pointed to the swans that were swimming near the fountain. “The trumpeter is beautiful to behold, graceful and elegant, just like our Ms. Swan. But if you disturb a trumpeter, trespass through its territory, or threaten its nest, it will hiss like a cobra and attack with the viciousness of a wolf. That is the black swan side.”
“And Duchess?”
“She has the instinct within her to do whatever it takes to protect her territory, and, in this case, her territory is her perfect grades. She will not allow herself to fail your challenge, Mr. Badwolf. She will do whatever it takes to succeed. Even if that means becoming a villain.”
“Ah, I see,” Mr. Badwolf said. “But what about her destiny? The swan princess is not a villain. By putting her in my class, are you not going against tradition? Are you not, in a small way, doing exactly what you don’t want the students to do—choosing a new destiny?”
Headmaster Grimm snorted. “We are not Rebels, if that’s what you’re getting at, Mr. Badwolf. We are the upholders of tradition! Our stories depend upon an Evil Queen. And if Raven will not step into her mother’s shoes, then someone else must. We cannot let those shoes go empty.”
“Interesting.”
“Have you noticed how Ms. Swan looks at the other students who have Happily Ever Afters? She wants one desperately. If she passes General Villainy, then she’ll move on to Advanced Villainy and begin to learn the dark spells. It wouldn’t take her long to realize that by controlling dark magic, she could change the curse that awaits her.”
Duchess’s wings went limp with shock.
“If she changed the curse, then she wouldn’t have to live her life as a bird.” Mr. Badwolf nodded. “Now I understand. With that kind of motivation, how could she not want to become the Next Top Villain?”
“And once she has mastered dark magic, she may show the potential to be the next Evil Queen, saving all of us from the end of Ever After as we know it.” The headmaster’s voice faded as he and Mr. Badwolf walked away.
As the pond water lapped at her belly, Duchess floated, trying to understand what she’d just overheard. She could change her fate and Headmaster Grimm would ap
prove?
But that would make her a… Rebel!
Chapter 11
Duchess’s Decision
Tuesday morning brought sunshine. It streamed in through the windows and reflected off the mirrors. It danced across Pirouette’s nest and fell upon Duchess’s desk, warming her as she sat with a quill in hand, staring at a page in her diary.
The rest of the page was blank.
She dipped her quill into the ink. Even though she’d been sitting at that desk since dawn, no wicked plan had emerged. What could she do? The only magic she possessed was to turn herself into a swan. But hissing at people didn’t seem very evil. And she didn’t want to give the other swans a bad reputation and risk having them evicted from school property.
She scratched her head. A little white feather fell from her hair and onto the desk. It was a leftover from last night’s transformation. Then she yawned. It had been a long, sleepless night. She’d stared, wide-eyed, at the wall, Headmaster Grimm’s voice repeating in her mind.
She will do whatever it takes to succeed. Even if that means becoming a villain.
Duchess Swan had never been faced with such a dilemma. Her good grades had never been based on doing anything that resembled rebellion, or anything that went against her family’s legacy. But now, if she got the best grade in General Villainy, she’d be sent to Advanced Villainy and she’d work her way up the ladder of evil.
What would happen if she decided to quit? What if she flunked this class? Her evil career would be over. Headmaster Grimm would remove her from the list of potential candidates to take Raven’s place. She’d never have to worry about villainy again. One fairy-fail grade on her transcript was not the end of the world, right?
But, by failing General Villainy, she would give up her opportunity to learn magic and change her fate. And she’d never get her Happily Ever After.
Oh feather duster! Talk about a lot to deal with. No wonder she was exhausted.
She turned back to the page in her diary, the one where she’d written…
I wish I had a Happily Ever After like Ashlynn’s and Apple’s.
“Lizzie?” she called.
Lizzie was still curled up in bed. “Hmmm?”
“Would you do anything for a Happily Ever After?” Duchess asked.
“Doing anything is much the same as doing everything or doing nothing, because they are all things.” She was clearly still half asleep, her thoughts thick with Riddlish.
“Lizzie, I’m serious.” Duchess turned and faced her roommate’s bed. “If someone gave you the chance to be the kind of queen you wanted to be, and to live in Wonderland again, but in order to get those things you had to risk your reputation and your family’s honor, would you take that chance?”
“Live in Wonderland again?” Lizzie bolted upright. Her hedgehog squeaked. “I would take that chance and every chance if it meant I could live happily in Wonderland.”
Duchess nodded, then turned back to her desk. She and Lizzie wanted the same thing—a chance at happiness. And Headmaster Grimm was handing Duchess her opportunity. All she had to do was take it. She squeezed the quill as she worked it out in her mind. Yes, this was what she’d prepared for. All those years of dedication and practice. She could do this. She would tell everyone that she was trying to keep her perfect grades. But secretly, she’d be on a new path, to a new destiny. She would never admit to anyone that she was being a Rebel.
The decision was made.
Plunk. An envelope landed on her desk. The fairy-godmother-in-training squeaked at her, then flew over to Lizzie’s bed and dropped an envelope on her head.
“It’s a delivery.” Duchess picked up her envelope. The initials HG had been pressed into the center of the wax seal. “It’s from Headmaster Grimm.”
“Is that the time?” Lizzie asked after reading the wall clock. “How dare it move so quickly! Can you read the letter out loud?” She scrambled out of bed and dove into her closet. Duchess unfolded the envelope and read.
“Talk about putting on the pressure,” Duchess said. Then, so Lizzie wouldn’t suspect her plan to win, she added, “This is the worst thronework ever.”
“I’ve been wondering what to do,” Lizzie said as she tossed pairs of socks over her head. “But doing and wondering are totally different things, and I’m not getting anywhere.”
“Me neither,” Duchess admitted as she closed her diary. Having no plan was worrisome, especially since it was Tuesday, and they had only until the end of the day Friday. No way was that enough time.
The dorm room door flew open, and Blondie Lockes stepped inside. “How is everyone feeling this morning?” she asked in her snoopy voice. Of course she was holding her MirrorPad, and the red recording light was on.
“Does no one in this dorm know how to knock?” Duchess asked. “Seriously. This school should offer a class.”
“If I knocked, I would never get in anywhere,” Blondie said.
She was right. Blondie’s thirst for breaking news would stop Duchess from inviting her in. The girl would inevitably find a scoop, whether it was the mess flying out of Lizzie’s closet or the feathers in Duchess’s bed.
But even a locked door wouldn’t keep Blondie out, because she possessed the magical ability to unlock doors with a simple touch of her hand.
“What do you want?” Duchess asked. She tucked Headmaster Grimm’s letter into her desk drawer.
Blondie stepped over a pile of Lizzie’s scepters, then plopped onto a heart-shaped beanbag chair. “Do you know how many hits I got on my Mirror-Cast yesterday?”
Duchess scowled at her. “Oh, how rude of me,” she said sarcastically. “Do make yourself at home.”
“Thanks,” Blondie said. She wiggled her rump until the beanbag chair fit just right. “Anyhoo, the Next Top Villain episode was the most-watched since I uncovered the alarming fact that the Castleteria’s peas porridge is nine days old. You guys are famous!”
A belt whizzed past Blondie’s head. “In Wonderland, a princess never has to find her own clothes!” Lizzie cried from the closet.
Blondie tousled her locks, then smiled at Duchess. “So? Have you made your rotten and nasty plan? What is it? I must know.”
Duchess dumped kibble into Pirouette’s bowl. “In case you haven’t noticed, Blondie, I get the best grades in school, which means I’m pretty smart. So why would I tell you anything?”
Blondie sighed. “You can’t blame me for trying.” She pointed her MirrorPad at the closet. “What about you, Lizzie? What are you going to do for your Villainy thronework?”
Lizzie emerged, fully dressed, except that she’d put her hedgehog on her head instead of a hat. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she said. Then she looked around. “Where’s Shuffle?”
“Well, looks like there’s nothing here for me to report. And I’ve got an episode to air.” Blondie hurried from the room, MirrorPad in hand. “See ya.”
For a brief moment, Duchess felt relieved that she wasn’t the only one who didn’t have a rotten and nasty plan. But that didn’t solve anything.
It took a few more minutes for Lizzie to get herself put together. Then she and Duchess headed out to grab a quick breakfast before the first class of the day. As they walked through the Common Room, a morning special edition of Just Right was already under way. Blondie’s face filled all the mirrors. “When asked about the General Villainy thronework, Lizzie Hearts said this.”
The report cut to footage of Lizzie standing with her hedgehog on her head, saying, “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Then the report cut back to Blondie. “Well, you heard it here first, people. Lizzie Hearts doesn’t know what she’s going to do. Could Lizzie be out before she’s even begun? Could this be the end for her? Stay tuned for more details as they emerge.”
“Oh, what a mean thing to say. I’d like to turn her into a croquet ball!” Lizzie said with a stomp of her foot. “How can I be out before I’ve even begun? That’s total nonsense.
I’ve begun at the beginning, and everyone knows that the beginning is where you begin and not where you end.” She swung her book bag over her shoulder. Then she plucked Shuffle from her head. “That Blondie should be in General Villainy class.”
Duchess wondered if she should take a clue from Blondie. Gossip could be hurtful and do more harm than good. Sometimes it was downright evil. Maybe that could be her thronework—to create a rumor. It was worth thinking about.
Blondie’s MirrorCast wasn’t over. “In other news, Daring Charming is looking for a personal shopper. If you’d like to apply for the job—”
Shrieks and squeals filled the air as half the female population ran from the building in search of Daring.
As Apple White and Ashlynn Ella walked past, Apple said, “When Daring and I have our Happily Ever After, we are obviously going to need an entire castle just for closet space.” They both giggled.
For once, Duchess did not feel envious of Apple. Apple was imagining her carefree life with her future Prince Charming. Her Happily Ever After.
Because Duchess was imagining her own.
Chapter 12
Princess Practice
The first class on Tuesday morning was Princessology. Each royal girl took the class during her time at Ever After High. There was much to learn.
The teacher, Mrs. Her Majesty the White Queen, was a lovely woman who always dressed in white, even after the Seven Dwarves Labor Day. Today she wore riding pants with boots up to her knees, and a blouse with billowy sleeves. Duchess was convinced that the White Queen possessed a cleaning charm, for never did a single speck of dirt or an oily splotch mar the pure whiteness of her attire.
“Good morning, princesses,” she said. Then she pressed a finger to her pointed chin. “Though I wonder, is it necessary to call a morning good? Does it not go without saying that all mornings are good, for to be without a morning would be very bad indeed.” She was from Wonderland, so like Lizzie, she often said way more words than were necessary.