Ever After High: A Semi-Charming Kind of Life

by Suzanne Selfors

  “No, I won’t marry you,” she called. She’d long ago decided that honesty was best. Why give him false hope? “But thanks for asking.” She closed the window. The boy had probably noticed her that morning, when she’d walked to the Castleteria for breakfast.

  Darling stuck the bouquet into a vase, then returned to her routine. Squats were next, followed by jumping jacks. The space between the two beds provided ample room for her exercises. Over the years, she’d taught herself to work out in small spaces. It would be too risky to use the athletic field or the Grimmnasium. If she was seen, someone might report back to King and Queen Charming that their precious daughter had been engaging in—gasp!—physical activity. “A princess should be healthy,” her father had said. “But overactivity is unnecessary and can lead to cramps, heat exhaustion, and an unsightly development of muscles. Besides, a princess doesn’t need to be strong. She can leave that to her rescuer.”

  Darling flexed her right bicep, then her left. She smiled. This princess was strong!

  Just as she finished her squats, her MirrorPhone alarm rang, indicating that the thronework hour had passed. She took a swig of Rip Van Winkle Vitamin Water. Rosabella would be gone for a while. She could probably fit in another hour of “waiting.”

  But a noise drew her attention. She quickly changed back into her dress before stepping onto the balcony. Gentle sunlight warmed her arms and cheeks as she leaned against the stone railing. In the distant field, beyond the swan pool and the rose garden, the Hero Training class was in progress. Professor Knight sat on horseback, waving his arms as he lectured his students. Each student wore a suit of plated armor. It was clearly the first time many of them had worn such a getup, for they were teetering around and bumping into one another. Darling chuckled to herself. They looked silly, but at least they got to do something. Heroes were never told to sit around and wait.

  But then the class took an interesting turn. A horse was led onto the field. Professor Knight, an elderly knight who’d been teaching at Ever After High since the previous century, pointed at the group of students. Darling gripped the balcony rail as two boys stepped forward. Both boys wore helmets, so she couldn’t tell who they were. She squinted. The taller boy had a painted ax on his breastplate. That could only mean he was Hunter Huntsman, son of the Huntsman, who had rescued many damsels in distress, including Snow White and Red Riding Hood. A capital C was painted on the other boy’s breastplate. C for Charming. It was one of her brothers—but was it Daring or Dexter?

  Professor Knight hollered some directions. With the assistance of another student and a step stool, Hunter mounted the steed. He wobbled a bit in the saddle but managed to find his balance. Then he rode in a tight circle and dismounted. It couldn’t be easy to ride with all that armor weighing him down. Darling knew that Hunter was skilled at hunting and tracking on foot, but she’d had no idea that he could ride so well.

  Then it was her brother’s turn. Surely, this would be an easy feat for either brother. As soon as they could walk, both Charming boys had been trained to ride horses. Daring was their kingdom’s most decorated rider, having won blue ribbons every year at the Charming County Fair. Though Dexter had never won a championship, he was moderately good. “Don’t fret,” Queen Charming had always told her secondborn son whenever her firstborn son brought home another blue ribbon. “You don’t have to be the best. You only have to be second best.”

  Down on the field, Darling’s brother took a few steps. He wobbled as he walked, weaving left, then right. Finally he reached the horse. But instead of stepping onto the stool, he bumped right into the horse and fell over. The students began to laugh.

  Darling sighed. There was no doubt about it—the brother wearing the armor was Dexter.

  Dexter lay on his back like an overturned tortoise. He rolled to one side, then to the other, but was unable to get up. A couple of students grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet. He tilted, unsteady. Was the weight of the armor throwing him off balance? Darling watched, wide-eyed, as Dexter reached out his hands and felt his way around the horse. What was the matter with him? He wasn’t usually such a klutz. Had he stayed up all night gaming? Maybe he hadn’t been taking his royal vitamins.

  After being helped onto the stool by two students, then pushed onto the horse, Dexter was finally sitting upright in the saddle. But just as Darling was about to sigh with relief, he toppled over and landed in the grass, flat on his back again. She winced. That armor was clearly not agreeing with him. Another student stepped forward. He took off his helmet, revealing a mane of golden-blond hair. It was her brother Daring. He helped Dexter to his feet.

  A knock on the door was an unwelcome distraction, since Darling was worried about Dexter. “Just a minute,” she called. She undid her ponytail and wiped perspiration from her nose. She checked her reflection to make sure everything was cascading and shine-free. Then she opened the door to find Apple White, daughter of Snow White, patiently waiting. “Sorry that took so long. I was… powdering my nose.”

  “No problem,” Apple said in her chirpy way. “I don’t mind waiting. Waiting is our thronework assignment, after all.” She looked as lovely as ever, in an apple-red dress. Her pet snow fox, Gala, was curled around her neck, fast asleep. “These are for you.” She handed three envelopes to Darling. “They were delivered to my room by mistake.”

  Darling didn’t need to look at the envelopes. While some boys bought flowers, others wrote love letters—super-corny love letters. How hextremely embarrassing! Darling tossed them into a basket that was already brimming with mail.

  Apple raised her eyebrows. “As the fairest in the land, I adore getting love letters. Aren’t you going to read yours?”

  “Eventually,” Darling said. But the truth was, she was sick of reading those letters. They all said the same thing. You are the prettiest, yack, yack, yack. My heart beats for you alone, blah, blah, blah. I will be your Prince Charming, yadda, yadda, yadda.

  “Do you need the number for the dwarf who handles my publicity?” Apple offered. “He’s great at answering fan letters, love letters, hexts, smoke signals, pigeon parcels, and such. As crowned princesses, we have a duty to our subjects, even if our subjects are a tad hexhausting sometimes.”

  Darling sighed. Though Apple was nice, she had a tendency to only see things the Royal way. “I know what I’m supposed to do,” Darling said. “But seriously, why should I get stuck answering all these letters? These boys are only writing to me because I’m a Charming. There are so many other things I could be learning and doing with my time.”

  “I understand.” Apple adjusted her tiara. “But do you know how many girls would love to have your destiny?”

  “They can have it,” Darling said. “If I could swap with them, I would.”

  Apple gasped. Then, after looking around, she stepped into the room. “Don’t say things like that. People might think you’re a Rebel.” This year at Ever After High, the word rebel had a lot of buzz around it. It was used to define a student who openly questioned his or her storyline—who spoke out about destiny not being written in stone, but being written by choice. It was a new philosophy that shocked many of the older generation, including Darling’s parents. And it was a subject Darling wanted to avoid. So she was grateful when cheering arose from out on the field.

  “What’s that?” Apple asked. The snow fox opened her eyes and lifted her head.

  “Hero Training class,” Darling said. “They’re learning how to ride in a full suit of armor.”

  “Oooh… that must mean they’re going to joust.” She clapped her hands. “I love a good joust. Remember how Daring won last year? He’ll be champion again, of course.”

  It went without saying. Daring was always the best when it came to being a hero.

  Apple White’s fairytale destiny was to marry a Prince Charming. Though there were many Prince Charmings, it was naturally assumed that Daring and Apple were destined to be together, happy forever after.

  A
pple hurried out onto the balcony. Darling followed. Hero Training class appeared to be over. Professor Knight had departed, and the other students were leaving the field. But one student was sitting in the grass like a lump. He removed his helmet.

  “Why’s Dexter just sitting there?” Apple asked as she stroked her snow fox’s tail.

  Before Darling could respond, Apple’s MirrorPhone chimed.

  “Oh dear, I’d better go. Daring and I have a lunch date at the Beanstalk Bakery. There’s a new doughnut named after him. Daring’s Doughy Delight. It will be delicious, of course.” She blew Darling a kiss, then hurried to the door. “Charm you later,” Apple said. The snow fox waved good-bye. And off they went.

  Darling looked back at the field. Dexter hadn’t moved. Something wasn’t right. He needed her.

  It would take exactly twelve minutes to walk down all the staircases and hallways of the school before reaching the garden below. She could run it in two minutes. But because she was a Charming princess with a traditional reputation to uphold, running in public, in the middle of the school day, was out of the question. Plus she didn’t want to draw more attention to Dexter’s plight. Most likely he was feeling sorry for himself. The last thing he needed was a bunch of students rushing to his side, asking him why he couldn’t ride a horse like his brother. So she closed the dorm room door. Then she set her tiara onto her head, secured it with a few hairpins, and stepped back onto the balcony. The quickest way out of the dormitory was down. Straight down.

  She peered over the railing. The boy who’d tossed the bouquet had wandered off. No one else was around. She had to be quick. She grabbed one of the vines that grew up the school’s stone walls. It wasn’t as thick as a beanstalk, but it was sturdy enough to hold her weight. This wasn’t the first time she’d used this method of travel. In fact, over the years, she’d become quite the expert climber. But that was another one of her secrets.

  King Charming was the reason Darling had begun climbing, for he was the one who’d sent her to the tower.

  Chapter 4

  The Tower Years

  Charming Castle was set high atop a craggy mountain peak. To reach the castle, one had to ride in a tram—a wobbly contraption that hung from thorny vines and carried guests over the deep ravines, past snow-covered peaks, and to the castle’s massive front door. Uninvited visitors were forced to hike the steep mountain path, avoiding piles of mountain goat excrement and paying the various fees to the trolls who lived under the mountain bridges. Upon reaching the castle, guests would gawk with wonder at the splendor of its design. Framed with massive timbers brought in by the giants, and built with glacier stones, the castle withstood storms, quakes, and the occasional onslaught of dragon fire. And poking out of the top of the castle was a tower.

  The tower consisted of a narrow staircase that led to a grand turret, a decent-sized room that provided breathtaking views of the mountain range, the winding river, and the village and farmlands below. During most of Darling’s life, this room had been filled with cobwebs, alarmingly large spiders, and the occasional wandering pixie. Darling never suspected that such a gloomy place would become her bedroom.

  Or her prison, depending on one’s point of view.

  The chaos began one evening while the Charming family was sitting down to supper. As the servants scurried around the grand table, plopping dollops of whipped butter onto crusty sliced bread and ladling soup into golden terrines, a loud knocking arose at the front door.

  “Sire,” the butler announced with a bow. “A young lad is at the door, requesting the princess’s hand in marriage.”

  Darling’s mouth fell open. “Did you say my hand in marriage?” she asked the butler.

  “I did indeed, my princess.”

  The servants froze. A moment of silence filled the dining hall. Then Daring and Dexter flung themselves from their chairs and raced out of the room, shoving and pushing each other to see who could get to the door first. The king was close behind. Darling, who was not supposed to run, because it increased the likelihood of falling and breaking a bone, lifted her skirt and speed-walked as quickly as she could, accompanied by her mother, the queen. By the time they reached the front door, it appeared that everyone in the castle had gathered—pantry maids, stable hands, even the old man who cleaned the royal chimneys. Darling squeezed between her brothers to get a better look.

  A boy stood on the stone steps. He was panting like a racehorse and holding a bouquet of charm blossoms. He wore ordinary, village-mall clothing. No crown sat upon his head. When he saw her, he fell to one knee. “Will… you…?” He gasped for air. “Sorry. That trail… was very… steep.” He wiped sweat off his brow. “Princess Darling, will you marry me?”

  Everyone turned and gawked at Darling. She wasn’t sure what to do. The king narrowed his eyes. “Do you know this boy?” he asked her. He was still holding his salad fork.

  “No,” she said, for she’d never seen the boy before in her life.

  “I work in the village,” the boy explained. “My father owns the Magic Bean Shop.” He grinned at Darling in a goofy sort of way. “I saw you walk by this morning. I have long admired the Charming family, and I knew the instant I saw you that we were meant to be together.”

  Darling cringed. Her cheeks grew hot. It was true that she had gone for a walk in the village with her brother Dexter. But she didn’t remember meeting this boy. How could he possibly want to marry her?

  King Charming cleared his throat. “See here, young man.” As he waved his fork around, a piece of tomato flew off and landed on the butler. “I’m sure your father is a very reputable merchant, but my daughter is a princess and thus will marry someone with a royal title. Besides, she is not yet of marrying age and—” Before he could explain further, another boy barreled up the steps, equally sweaty and equally out of breath. A heart-shaped box was tucked under his arm.

  “Princess Darling, will you marry me?” he pleaded as he fell to one knee.

  “Hey, I asked her first,” the boy said, delivering a sharp elbow jab to his competitor.

  “Yeah, but I am truly destined to marry into this family,” the second boy insisted. “I am far more worthy of the Charming princess than you are!” They began throwing punches. Darling couldn’t believe her eyes. What was going on? Were they fighting over her?

  “That’s enough!” King Charming ordered. “No one is marrying my daughter! Go back to the village.” Then he spun on his heels and pointed at Darling. “And you, young lady, get back inside.”

  Darling felt terrible. But what had she done? She hadn’t spoken a single word to either boy. How could they think she would marry them? While her brothers chased the boys away, Darling followed her mother inside. “Why were they acting so weird?” Darling asked.

  Queen Charming wrapped an arm around Darling’s shoulder and explained. “You are older now, and as you have grown, so, too, has your beauty and charm. Our family is well known throughout the kingdom, and there are many, many boys who will want to prove their worth by marrying a Charming princess. Especially one as lovely as you!”

  “Yuck,” Darling said with a roll of her eyes. “That’s gross.”

  And thus it continued. If Darling took a ride to visit relatives, or attended a ball or feast in another village, the very next day a constant stream of suitors would appear at the castle door with flowers, chocolates, and the occasional stuffed unicorn. Bouquets lined the hallways. Love letters filled the royal mailbox. Even trolls and ogres came courting.

  “Can’t a king enjoy his supper in peace?” King Charming hollered one night after they’d been interrupted for the fifth time. “Sons, defend your sister from these adolescent intruders!”

  From that moment on, Daring and Dexter didn’t simply chase away the suitors; they made a sport of it. Dexter rigged buckets over the front door. A dousing with cold water was especially effective. Daring preferred chasing them with his sword drawn or charging on his trusty steed. Of course, no one was hurt in the
process, but it was best to deal with the fame-seekers swiftly, to discourage them from setting up camp. And if they started singing corny love songs below Darling’s window, the royal hounds were released.

  The royal sign-maker was summoned to carve a sign from the finest mahogany for the front door.

  But despite these efforts, boys continued to show up on the doorstep. And when one was found stuck in the chimney, King Charming called a family meeting. “My darling,” he said, “the suitor situation has gotten out of hand. Thus I have decided that you must stop venturing outside the castle.”

  “You want me to stay inside?” Darling asked. “But I thought you wanted everyone to see me. I thought you were proud of me because I’m so charming.”

  “We are proud,” he said. “But circumstances have changed. Until it is time to send you to Ever After High, you must spend your days inside, out of sight from all those pimple-faced boys. Your spellementary teacher will come here to teach you. That should calm things down for a while.” He wagged a finger at her. “And don’t even think about sneaking to the village. If I have to listen to one more screechy version of ‘Girl, You Rock My World’ being sung outside the dining room window, it will be ‘off with their heads’ like the Queen of Hearts!”

  So, in an attempt to keep the peace, the king had Darling’s bedroom moved to the grand turret in the castle’s tower. The servants cleared away the cobwebs, spiders, and a few pixie squatters, then set up a canopy bed. “This is so cliché,” Darling grumbled, plopping herself onto a velvet chair. “Seriously? I’m going to be a princess stuck in a tower? How many times have we heard that story?”

  “Sweetie,” Queen Charming said as she checked her reflection in one of the many mirrors that now decorated the room. “You are not stuck in a tower. You are simply living here. Most of the time. And not leaving unless you have permission.”