Ever After High: Next Top Villain: A School Story
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She sat at her regular table. Sometimes Lizzie ate with her, but sometimes Lizzie joined the other students from Wonderland. Duchess had tried sitting with them, but the constant stream of Riddlish had made her head hurt. She’d tried sitting with the other Royal princesses, but the conversation always turned to the tension between the Royals and the Rebels, which ruined her appetite. Those Rebels were always creating drama when it wasn’t needed. They should be focused on their grades and doing their best, like she did.
Duchess didn’t mind eating alone, especially on that particular day. She had a lot to think about. She picked up a giant green bean and began to gnaw on it the way one gnaws on an ear of corn. What rotten and nasty thing could she do by Friday? How could she compete with students whose blood contained the DNA for evil?
“Hello, fellow fairytales,” a voice called. The mirrors mounted on the Castleteria walls suddenly lit up. “It’s time for a brand-new edition of Just Right!” Theme music for the popular MirrorCast began to play. Everyone stopped eating, or walking, or talking, or all of the above, and turned to watch the nearest mirror. A face appeared—a very smiley, very perky, very pretty face that belonged to Blondie Lockes, the host of the show.
Blondie, the daughter of Goldilocks, told everyone that she was a Royal, though this was in doubt. She called herself a reporter, but in Duchess’s opinion, that was also in doubt. Blondie was a snoop, and no information was safe around her.
“As usual, I have the latest scoop on what’s happening at Ever After High,” she announced with a smile.
Even Duchess set down her green bean. Blondie might have been as annoying as a feather tickling one’s nose, but who doesn’t love the latest gossip? What was Blondie going to spill today? A secret romance? A broken curfew? Another student deciding to become a Rebel?
Blondie’s mane of thick curls bounced against her shoulders. “On this very morning, Raven Queen and five other students in the General Villainy class were named the worst group of future evildoers in the history of our school by Mr. Badwolf. And that is a direct quote from the spider who sat beside her.”
Murmurs arose in the Castleteria. Duchess looked across the room to the corner table where Raven was sitting. She was watching a mirror, just like everyone else.
“But Raven and the others have a chance to make things just right.” Blondie pressed her face so close to the camera you could count her freckles. “Each student in General Villainy must commit a rotten and nasty act by the end of school on Friday or fairy-fail the assignment. She or he who commits the most rotten and nasty act by the end of school on Friday will get an A and the chance to pick a prize from Mr. Badwolf’s treasure vault.” Blondie adjusted the bow that sat on top of her head. “The student who wins will be on the right path to evil success. Will it be Raven? Will it be Sparrow or Lizzie? The question of the week is: Who will be the Next Top Villain?”
The words NEXT TOP VILLAIN filled the mirror.
“It’s gonna be me!” The camera shot widened. Faybelle stood beside Blondie and looked right into the camera. “Raven Queen doesn’t want to be a villain, and the rest of the students are all do-gooders. I’m gonna win for sure. Faybelle, Faybelle, she’s the one. She’s the one who’ll make evil fun!” She did a couple of super-high kicks.
Blondie stepped in front of the bouncing cheerhexer. “You heard it here first. Faybelle Thorn claims she’s going to be Ever After High’s Next Top Villain. I’ll see you soon with the latest scoop. Remember, if it’s not too hot or too cold, it must be Just Right!” The mirror returned to normal. Raven Queen went back to eating her cheeseburger. And everyone else went back to living their fairytale lives.
“What are we going to do?” Lizzie asked as she slid next to Duchess onto the bench. Her lunch tray held a pot of tea and a plate of little heart-shaped sandwiches. She dropped four sugar cubes into her teacup. “I don’t want to do something rotten and nasty.”
“Me neither,” Duchess said.
“But there’s so much pressure to live up to my mother’s reputation.” Lizzie sighed. “You’re so lucky you don’t have to worry about what other people think.”
“Lucky?” Duchess pushed the green beans aside. “I’m also feeling the pressure. My family insists that I get perfect grades.”
“Hexpectations, schmexpectations!” Lizzie said as she stirred her tea. “As we say in Wonderland, out of the moat and into the boat.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we’re in the same boat,” Lizzie said. “The same predicament. How are we going to pass this class when neither of us is a villain at heart?” Then she looked up and groaned. “Oh no, here he comes.”
Daring Charming strode across the Castleteria on a direct course for their table, his groupies close behind. Duchess grabbed a napkin and wiped her mouth. Then she fussed with her hair and her pearls. Was he still looking for someone to take that stroll with him?
“Ladies,” he said, striking a manly pose. “I’m sure you’re charmed to see me again.”
“Hello, Daring,” Lizzie said, sounding about as prickly as a hedgehog. She took a bite from one of her sandwiches. “What do you want now?”
“I’m getting my hair trimmed this afternoon. I give the clippings to my favorite charity, BGGB. Blond Guys Gone Bald.” He smiled, and Lizzie’s silver teapot illuminated. “I usually get a good turnout audience-wise, so I wanted you to know that I’m happy to save a seat for you. You might get a few bits of hair in your eyes, but that’s a small price to pay for a front-row view.”
“I’ll go,” Duchess said.
Daring ignored her. He stared expectantly at Lizzie. “I’m awaiting your reply.”
Hello? Did she blend into the wallpaper? I’m right here.
“I’m way too busy,” Lizzie said. “I’ve got serious thronework to do.”
“Then, as the perfect hero, I offer my assistance to the damsel-in-distress.” With a flourish of his brawny arm, he bowed. How romantic! Duchess’s heart did a little tap dance behind her rib cage. “I shall assist you, Ms. Lizzie Hearts, with your thronework.”
But rather than accept an offer of help from the most handsome prince on campus, Lizzie Hearts rolled her eyes. “It’s not for Damsel-In-Distressing class, Daring. Besides, you can’t help. You don’t know anything about being a villain.”
“Well, that’s true. I excel at all things goodly and courageous. But perhaps we could—”
“I gotta go,” Lizzie said as she scrambled to her feet. “See you later, Duchess.” Then she grabbed her tray and hurried away. Daring stared after her, his perfect face clenched in a puzzled expression. Clearly, he wasn’t used to being turned down.
“I’ve got the same thronework,” Duchess told him hopefully. Would he bow and offer to help?
But before she could explain further, Prince Daring Charming was already walking away.
“Totally awkward.” Sparrow Hood slid onto the bench and grabbed one of her green beans. “How can you eat this stuff? I mean, don’t get me wrong—I like the color green. But these things are so stringy I could make music with them.” Then he pretended to play the bean. “Hey, do you know you’ve got a little something stuck between your front teeth?”
Duchess’s hand flew to her mouth, and she picked out a green bean string. Great. She’d smiled right at Daring. This day just kept getting better and better. “What do you want, Sparrow?”
“Chill, Swan. I just wanted to talk to you about something.” He glanced over his shoulder, then lowered his voice. “I think we should team up.”
“Team up? And do what?”
“And live happily forever after.”
She froze. Those three words made her stomach clench. “You know that’s not my destiny.”
He pushed his hat off his brow and grinned. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. Actually, I was thinking we could team up and win this villain thing.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because we’re both outs
iders.” He leaned his elbows on the table, and his voice took on a conspiratorial tone. “Look, the rest of them—Ginger, Lizzie, Raven, and Faybelle—they’ve got evil in their blood. But as far as I know, you don’t have a drop and neither do I. And to make things worse, my dad was a do-gooder. The odds are against us, Swan. But if we team up, we might just ace it.”
“You don’t care about grades,” Duchess said. “Besides, Mr. Badwolf said that only one student will get the A.” She narrowed her eyes. “I know what you’re doing. All you care about is your music. Everyone knows you hate thronework. You’re trying to trick me into doing all the work for you.”
He put a hand on his chest. “Oh, Swan, you’re breaking my heart. How can you say such things? Don’t you know there’s something else I care about? Something other than my songs?” He leaned close and gazed into her eyes.
Duchess took a sharp breath. Was this his way of telling her that he liked her? “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said coolly.
“My dad’s motto was ‘Rob from the rich and give to the poor.’” He jangled a golden wristband. “But my motto is ‘Rob from everyone and give to me.’” He swung his legs around and stood. “You can have the grade, but I want to pick the prize from Mr. Badwolf’s treasure vault.” Then he slung his guitar over his shoulder. “So, whadda ya say? Are we going to do a duet?”
She frowned. Sharing a thronework assignment with the one guy in school who was known for his laziness was the last thing she wanted to do. But he had a point. Without a drop of evil in their blood, how could they compete?
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
Chapter 9
Madame’s Message
Duchess’s afternoon class was Advanced Ballet, taught at the Red Shoes Studio, which was a short walk from the main campus. With her book bag slung over her shoulder, she hurried down the lane. She was tempted to transform into her swan self and fly there, but thanks to the addition of the General Villainy hextbook, her bag was much too heavy to carry in her beak.
Only a few students at Ever After High knew the joy of flight. Those with fairy wings and flight-casting abilities could zip between classes if they chose to. But a fairy possesses a human shape, which is not streamlined like a bird’s. Duchess knew how to point her neck and beak, creating a line that cut through fierce wind. She knew how to catch updrafts between her feathers and how to float as if she were made of cloud.
She could re-create those sensations on the dance floor, soaring on two legs as if she were dancing on air.
Duchess opened the oak door and stepped into the Red Shoes Studio. A grand ballroom spread before her. Hundreds of pairs of dancing shoes hung from the high ceiling. In the corner, a shoemaker stood at the very top of a wobbly ladder, hanging another pair. The soles of each shoe had been worn out. The twelve Madames who taught at this school were the same twelve princesses who’d left their palace each night to secretly dance until dawn. And each night, they had danced so much that they wore out their shoes. Though older now, the Madames still loved to dance, and that was why they employed a troupe of shoemakers, whose little hammers and sewing machines could be heard from the back room as they constantly made new shoes.
Duchess slipped into a dressing room and changed into her leotard, tights, and white-feather tutu. She wound her long hair into a bun. After slipping her feet into her pointe shoes, she laced the silk straps up her calves. Then she made her way, en pointe, to the ballet studio.
Madame was waiting, her silver hair in its tight knot. She was long and lean, and stood on her red pointe shoes so that she seemed as tall and straight as a tree. Her expression was stern. She said not a word as Duchess crossed the floor and took her position at the barre. Then music began to play, and Duchess followed Madame’s instructions. “First position. Plié. Elevé. Second position. Plié. Elevé.” And so it went, on and on.
It was hard work, but Duchess was used to it. She’d practiced every day since learning to walk, missing classes only when she’d been sick with childhood illnesses such as pixie pox and fairy fever. Ballet required total focus and utmost dedication. It suited Duchess perfectly.
After two hours of grand jétes, pirouettes, and arabesques, Madame clapped her hands and the music stopped. Duchess grabbed a towel and dabbed sweat off her neck and shoulders.
“I can tell you have somezing on your mind,” Madame said as she tapped her long fingers on the barre. “I watched zee MirrorCast zis morning. Is zis what you want? To be zee Next Top Villain?”
“I don’t want to be a villain,” Duchess said. “But Mr. Badwolf won’t let me transfer. I don’t know why he wants me in that class.”
“Perhaps he recognizes potential in you,” Madame said.
“Potential?” Duchess dabbed her forehead. “To be… evil? But it’s my destiny to be the star of my story, not the villain.”
Madame raised her penciled eyebrows. “Each of us has a light side and a dark side, Ms. Swan. Zee question is not if you can win. Zee question is, will you choose to lose? Will you choose defeat?”
Duchess did not like that word—defeat. “Of course I won’t choose to lose,” she said. “But it’s more complicated than that.” She sat on a bench and began to untie her shoes.
“You are a ballerina, Ms. Swan. Ballerinas are unique creatures. We can do whatever we set our minds to do.” Madame opened the studio door and pointed down the hallway. “Listen to zee other dancers,” she said with disdain. “Zey are clomping around as zey attempt to learn zee common village dances. Zey do not possess our gracefulness. Zey do not defy gravity as we do.” She crossed the room and towered over Duchess. “Why do you make zat frowny face?”
“Because I want to be the best student and the best ballerina, but I don’t want to be the best villain.”
“Zer is a light side and a dark side to ballet, no?”
“What do you mean?”
Madame spread her arms wide. “Zee light side of ballet is zee glory to be onstage. To have zee envy of zee audience. And to hear zeir hands clapping in appreciation. Oui?”
“Yes,” Duchess said, remembering the thrill of the rising curtain, the warmth of the spotlight, the thunder of applause. A shiver ran up her spine, then back down. How she loved those moments. Faces upturned, eyes wide, watching her with envy.
Duchess removed her shoes and rested her tired feet on the floor. Madame pointed at Duchess’s left foot, where a new blister had formed on the baby toe. “Zee dark side of ballet is zee physical pain. Zee countless hours of practice. Zee solitude.”
Duchess nodded. While the village children played hide-and-seek, she’d spent many a day alone in the studio. And many a night bandaging her feet and soaking her aching muscles in salt baths. But nothing, not the pain or the solitude, could discourage her from perfecting her art.
“If you look deep inside, Ms. Swan, you will find zee determination you need to face zis challenge. A ballerina always meets her challenges.”
Noise outside the windows drew their attention. Some students were walking past the studio, on their way to the Village of Book End. Lizzie, Madeline Hatter, and Kitty Cheshire, fellow Wonderlandians, were laughing and chatting, probably on their way to the Mad Hatter’s Haberdashery & Tea Shoppe.
Then came a lone figure. It was Raven Queen. She was walking and reading a book at the same time. Her black hair sparkled in the sunlight. Duchess stepped close to the window. Raven didn’t notice that she was being watched. She giggled as she read, then turned the page. She didn’t look one bit worried about the General Villainy thronework. Why should she? She’d chosen to turn away from her responsibilities.
Madame’s voice filled the studio. “When a ballerina no longer wants to dance the leading role, then another ballerina must step forward and take her place.”
Duchess swallowed hard. “Take her place?”
“Are you going to turn your back on the leading role, Ms. Swan?”
Chapter 10
Swan Secrets
During a dinner of swamp greens and curly fries, Duchess felt as if the walls of the school were pressing in. She wanted to get away and think. So much had happened that day. Everyone was talking about the General Villainy thronework. Blondie Lockes had even painted a banner that read:
WHO WILL BE THE NEXT TOP VILLAIN?
She’d hung it from the Castleteria rafters.
Blondie interrupted Duchess’s meal by trying to interview her. “What mean and rotten thing are you going to do?” she asked, pushing her MirrorPad in front of Duchess’s face. “And be sure to speak loud enough so everyone can hear you.”
“It’s not mean and rotten. It’s rotten and nasty,” Duchess corrected. “And even if I had a plan, why would I tell you?” She turned her back to the MirrorPad.
Blondie darted in front of her. “Are you saying you don’t have a plan?”
“No, I’m not saying that.” She tried to speak calmly so Blondie wouldn’t suspect the truth.
Blondie spoke into her MirrorPad. “Well, people, you heard it here first. Duchess Swan says she’s not saying she doesn’t have a plan.” Then Blondie hurried through the hall, trying to find another General Villainy student to interview.
Duchess quickly ate her meal. Then, with graceful steps, she slipped between onlookers and made her way outside. She could go to the ballet studio and find solitude for her thoughts. But there was one other place where she could be alone.
After crawling into some shrubbery, Duchess closed her eyes and willed the transformation. Fortunately, the turning of arms into wings and mouth into beak was a painless process. Even the elongation of her neck didn’t hurt. Another fortunate fact was that she didn’t need to worry about her clothes. They magically disappeared, and reappeared on her body when she turned herself back into a human.